«*•* 


THE 

ALBATROSS  NOVELS 

By  ALBERT  ROSS 
23  Volume* 

M»y  be  had  wiurever  books  arc  told  at  the  price  JOB 
paid  for  thb  volume 

Black  Adonis,  A 
Canton  Bigamy,  The 
Her  Husband's  Friend 
Hi*  Foster  Sister 
His  Private  Character 
In  Stella's  Shadow 
Love  at  Seventy 
Love  Gone  Astray 
Moulding  a  Maiden 
Naked  Truth,  The 
New  Sensation,  A 
Original  Sinner,  An 
Out  of  Wedlock 
Speaking  of  Ellen 
Stranger  Than  Fiction 
Sugar  Princess,  A 
That  Gay  Deceiver 
Their  Marriage  Bond 
Thou  Shalt  Not 
Thy  Neighbor's  Wife 
Why  I'm  Single 
Young  Fawcett's  Mabel 
Young  Miss  Giddy 

G.  W.  DILLINGH AM  CO. 
Publisher*  ::  j,  New  York 


YOUNG 
FAWCETT'S    MABEL. 

BY  ALBERT  ROSS, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"THOU  SHALT  Nor,"  "His  PRIVATE  CHARACTER," 

14  SPEAKING  or  ELLEN,"  "  LOVK  AT  SEVENTY," 

"WHY   I'M   SINGLE,"   "A   BLACK 

ADONIS,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW   YORK: 

eOfYRIflHT,  ,.,5,  BY  0.  W.   BILLIMOMAH. 

G.    W.    Dittingham    Co.,   Publishers. 
\Att  rights  rntrve*.\ 


TO  MY  READERS. 


THE  story  which  fills  the  following  page*  wa*  wi 
written  this  year,  nor  last ;  and  with  one  exception 
it  took  more  of  my  time  than  anything  else  that 
bears  my  signature.  It  has  long  been  ready  for  the 
press.  Why  has  it  not  been  printed  sooner,  and 
why  is  it  offered  to  you  now  ? 

The  first  reason  is  this  :  One  hesitates  to  send  a 
favorite  child,  in  whose  merit  he  believes,  before  an 
audience  sure  to  be  critical.  "Thou  Shalt  Not" 
lay  in  my  desk  four  years  before  any  publisher  saw 
it.  ' '  Young  Fawcett's  Mabel "  has  been  there  nearly 
as  long,  on  account  of  a  fear  that  my  successes  have 
not  taught  me  to  outlive. 

This  is  the  second  reason  :  There  are  certain 
public  questions  ' '  in  the  air, "  as  the  saying  is,  and 
novelists  are  unconsciously  following  in  similar 
paths.  For  instance  :  "  Out  of  Wedlock  "  had  a  plot 
that  was,  till  its  appearance,  unique  in  literature  ; 
but  within  a  month  an  eminent  English  author 
published  a  novel  with  the  same  motif,  and  a  month 
later  another  author  did  the  same  thing.  I  do  not 
consider  it  safe  to  leave  "Mabel"  out  of  print,  lest 
the  day  come  when  I  cannot  send  it  forth  without 
being  accused  of  plagiarism. 


2061965 


4  TO  MY  READERS. 

This  summer  I  hare  spent  in  Western  and  Central 
Europe.  In  the  intervals  of  travel  I  have  begun  to 
weave  another  tale,  that  will  be  yours  in  due  time. 
The  winter  I  intend  to  pass  in  Rome,  Naples,  Egypt 
and  Palestine ;  the  spring  in  Constantinople.  I 
therefore,  in  my  absence,  commend  to  you  this 
favorite  child  of  my  brain,  hoping  she  will  prove  at 
welcome  as  her  older  sisters  were. 

ALBERT  ROSa 

Flortme,  Italy,  Nov.  I,  1894. 


CONTENTS. 


OHArrm 

I.  A  Prospective  Mother-in-law. «...      7 

II.  "If  you  could  hare  a  room  "~ it 

III.  Mabel  Falls  in  Lore & 

IV.  Allan  Becomes  a  Brother. 4* 

V.  "That  wouldn't  be  nice" S3 

VI.  Not  an  Improper  Liberty 6j 

VII.  Sadie  Wears  Evening  Dress 73 

VIII.  "  His  wife,  of  course  " 86 

IX.  A  Great  Deal  of  Sewing. 98 

X.  Their  Wedding  Journey 109 

XI.  "  Don't  speak  to  me  I  " 121 

XII.  A  Husband's  Thoughtlessness 119 

XIII.  "  You  never  saw  a  girl !" 136 

XIV.  ANightatSelden's 14$ 

XV.  When  Morning  Came 15$ 

XVI.  "Asmall  boyarrived" i« 

XVII.  Wanted,  a  Divorce 179 

XVIII.  "  He  must  be  a  paragon  " 189 

XIX.  Coming  Home  Unexpectedly aoo 

XX.  "  Will  it  be  best  ? " «• 

XXI.  Because  Mattie  was  Lonesome a«i 

XXII.  An  Unpleasant  Situation 233 

XXIII.  " Why  did  y»u  tell malfcs?". 344 


XXIY.  A  TorkWi  Brtfc 353 

XXY.  M I  know  you  have  been  trne  ". 262 

XXVL  "What  made  700  marry  mamma?". 268 

XXVIL  The  Act  of  a  Dastard. 278 

XXVIII.  Dead,  for  a  ducat 287 

XXIX.  For  Their  ChDd's  Sake. 296 

XXX, 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL 

CHAPTER  L 

A  PROSPECTIVE  MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

I  HAVE  decided  to  write  the  story  of  the  matrimonial 
experiences  of  Allan  Fawcett  and  of  Mabel  M.  Fawcett, 
his  wife  ;  to  tell  the  world,  without  prejudice  to  either, 
the  manner  in  which  they  became  acquainted,  the  cir- 
cumstances that  led  to  their  courtship  and  marriage, 
the  reasons  why  they  found  each  ^ther  uncongenial, 
the  way  they  drifted  apart,  and  the  temptations  that 
arose  from  the  infelicity  thus  developed. 

There  are  few  marital  difficulties,  I  opine,  that  are 
entirely  the  fault  of  but  one  of  the  contracting  parties. 
It  is  the  custom,  in  cases  of  doubt,  to  lay  the  heavier 
weight  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  man.  Possibly  those 
who  read  this  tale  may  admit  that  the  woman  is  not 
always  without  blame. 

I  am  to  tell  this  story  with  the  full  consent  of  those 
most  interested.  No  one  knows  them  better  than  I. 
They  have  confided  to  me  their  innermost  thoughts. 
During  those  months  when  they  had  lost  faith  in  each 
other,  they  confided  in  me.  I  believe  I  am  able  to  give 
an  unbiased  account  of  a  series  of  events  that  should 
be  of  direct  benefit  to  other  people  who  are  married  ef 
contemplating  matrimony. 


8  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Of  course  the  first  thing  necessary  is  to  disguise  the 
personality  of  my  characters.  Readers  acquainted 
with  the  various  branches  of  the  highly-respected 
Fawcett  family  may  recognize  neither  Allan  nor  Mabel 
as  familiar  names  connected  with  that  ilk.  It  would 
have  been  quite  as  easy  for  me  to  call  them  John  and 
Rebeka  Smith,  for  the  titles  used  are  wholly  fictitious. 
But  a  question  of  far  greater  importance  is  likely  to 
arise.  It  is  probable  that  thousands  will  think  they 
see  in  these  people  the  counterparts  of  others,  and 
credit  me  with  a  wider  and  more  intimate  knowledge 
of  domestic  affairs  than  any  one  man  could  possess. 
They  will  say  that  I  must  have  known  Mrs.  Brown  or 
Mr.  Robinson,  of  their  village,  and  have  penetrated 
into  the  deepest  secrets  of  their  existence.  They  will 
be  wrong.  Our  Allan  and  Mabel  have  an  entity  of 
their  own. 

There  is  a  widespread  opinion — which  this  book  will 
not  lessen — that  something  is  the  matter  with  the 
matrimonial  institution.  The  divorce  courts  are  choked 
With  cases.  There  are  States  in  which  hundreds  take 
lip  a  temporary  residence  for  the  sole  purpose  of  sever- 
ing obnoxious  ties.  Something  is  surely  wrong ;  but 
whether  the  trouble  lies  mainly  with  the  husbands,  or 
with  the  wives,  or  the  climate,  or  the  too  free  institu- 
tions of  the  land,  or  the  growing  contempt  for  old  forms, 
or  the  increasing  love  of  ease  and  luxury — that  I  will 
leave  to  the  professional  essayists  who  make  a  specialty 
of  such  matters.  It  is  for  me  merely  to  relate  the 
history  of  a  special  case,  and  allow  the  public  to  draw 
its  own  conclusions. 

In  the  days  of  my  childhood  I  remember  writing, 
over  and  over,  in  my  copy-book,  these  words : 

M  It  is  human  to  err." 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  9 

*  It  is  human  to  err." 

"  It  is  human  to  err." 

I  have  something  of  the  human  quality  in  me.  This 
couple  of  whom  I  shall  write — these  two  who  have 
lived  in  the  most  intimate  relation  that  God  permits  to 
His  creatures— may  come  to  regard  each  other  as  deadly 
enemies ;  they  who  have  hung  breathless  on  each  other's 
smiles  may  meet  with  frowns;  they  who  have  run 
swiftly  toward  the  sound  of  beloved  steps  may  fly  as 
swiftly  in  the  opposite  direction.  If  they  do,  I  cannot 
help  it.  The  more  they  err,  the  more  human  I  find 
them. 

To  begin,  then,  Allan  Fawcett,  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
was  left  an  orphan  and  a  penniless  one,  too.  He  did 
not  mind  in  the  least,  however,  the  prospect  of  going 
out  to  earn  his  living.  He  had  health  and  courage. 
Some  distant  relations  made  vague  offers  of  seeing  to 
his  welfare.  They  had  plenty  of  means  to  continue 
the  education  which  he  much  wanted,  even  to  send  him 
to  college,  as  his  father  would  have  done.  But  even 
at  that  early  age  Allan  had  developed  a  pride  quit*  out 
of  proportion  to  his  size.  He  felt  in  every  nerve  that 
the  offers  of  assistance  were  not  hearty  ones,  and  he 
would  have  begged  of  strangers  on  the  highway  rather 
than  accept  the  bounty  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood  un- 
der such  conditions.  He  told  them  he  had  no  need  of 
help,  and  almost  before  they  were  aware  of  his  intention 
he  had  taken  what  little  money  belonged  to  him,  and 
put  a  thousand  miles  between  himself  and  every  one 
he  knew. 

He  never  liked  to  talk  much  of  this  period  of  his 
life.  I  know  he  worked  awhile  in  a  store  for  four  doK 
lars  a  week,  sleeping  in  a  back  office  as  a  sort  of  pro- 
tection against  burglars,  and  paying  three  dollars  ft 


m  YOVXG  FAWCXTTS MAMML. 

week  for  his  meals  at  a  boarding-hocse,  I 
was  for  a  time  a  newsboy  on  a  railroad,  where  be 
"ran  "  a  night  train,  and  got  his  sleep  after  inlilB%Et 
on  a  pfle  of  mail-bags,  when  he  had  harassed  the  last 
possible  purchaser  into  buying  a  paper,  a  book,  or  a  box 
of  figs.  Afterwards  be  lived  in  a  hotel  and  answered 
bells;  and  be  went  op  and  down  one  of  our  great  rivers 
on  a  steamer,  waiting  on  table  and  otherwise  assisting 
fa  the  cabin. 

A  slender,  deEcate  lad  he  was  then,  bat  with  more 
hope  than  many  twice  his  size.  He  did  not  complain 
of  the  longest  hours,  or  of  the  hardest  labor  he  was 
able  to  perform,  but  would  never,  even  when  his  fort- 
unes were  the  lowest,  permit  anyone  to  address  him  in 
an  insolent  manner  without  replying  in  equally  cutting 
terms.  Some  of  his  situations  were  lost  by  this  trait  of 
his,  for  the  employer  of  labor  often  believes  that  the 
salary  he  pays  entitles  him  to  say  to  its  recipient  what- 
ever  ill-temper  suggests. 

Sometimes  the  very  ludicrousness  of  the  contrast  be- 
tween his  diminutive  bulk  and  that  of  his  elders  saved 
him  from  punishment  or  discharge,  as  a  laugh  from  the 
bystanders  would  greet  his  indignant  words;  some- 
fBMf^  again,  the  bully  who  had  "»nltfd  hffq  used  his 
superior  ^»*H*tti  to  eject  of  fk^yftp  him, 

Allan  never  could  realize  in  those  days  that  any  man 
afive  was  bigger  or  stronger  than  he,  until  it  had  beea 
pot  to  the  test.  When  attacked  with  the  tongue  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  parrying  the  thrust  with  one  full/ 
as  effective.  When  met  with  physical  force  he  lost  no 
time  in  seizing  any  weapon  that  lay  within  reach  and 
returning  blow  for  blow,  BO  matter  when  or  where  the 
incident  occurred. 

JUdwngk  a  skpd^  rate  pale  boy,  at 


YOUNG  FA  WCET-TS  MABEL.  \ i 

at  seventeen,  he  began  to  grow  rapidly  in  his 
eighteenth  year  At  nineteen  he  was  not  a  bad-looking 
young  fellow,  though  he  cared  little  for  dress  and  had 
not  a  single  air  of  the  dandy  about  him.  He  had  be* 
gun  to  get  on  his  feet,  as  the  saying  is.  Though  two 

-^  years  short  of  the  legal  age  for  transacting  business,  he 
was  already  a  merchant  in  a  small  way,  and  had  a 
capital  While  on  the  railroad  he  had  noticed  that  the 
prices  of  various  commodities  varied  considerably  at 

''  the  ends  of  the  line,  much  more  In  some  cases  than 
the  price  of  carriage  seemed  to  warrant.  With  only 
twenty-five  dollars  at  his  command  he  made  his  first 
venture  In  buying  and  selling,  and  had  the  supreme 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  twenty-five  turned  Into  thirty- 
eight  with  hardly  any  effort  It  was  clear  that  he  was 
destined  by  nature  to  be  a  trader.  Other  ventures 
followed,  some  with  equally  good  results,  some  with 
poorer,  and  some — as  is  a  necessity  of  trade — with  a 
loss.  But  even  the  losses  were  not  unproductive  of 
good  results.  They  taught  him  caution. 

What  slight  events  seem  to  alter  GOT  entire  lives  I 
The  year  that  Fawcett  was  twenty  he  happened  to  ren- 
der a  service  to  a  kdy  on  a  train.  She  had  forgotten 
an  important  errand  in  the  city  they  had  just  left — im- 
portant, at  least,  to  her — and  had  just  discovered,  by 
asking  the  conductor,  that  she  would  be  unable  to  go 
back  and  attend  to  it  without  staying  over  night,  a 
thing  she  did  not  like  to  do.  In  the  midst  of  her  dis- 
comfort Allan  Fawcett,  who  sat  in  the  seat  in  front  of 
her,  volunteered  his  services.  He  was  going  back  in 
the  course  of  two  or  three  boors,  and  would  be  pleased 
to  step  into  the  store  and  order  the  package  she  had 
forgotten  forwarded  to  her  by  the  first  morning  train* 
Tht  Wy  locked  at  the  cud  be  handed  btr,  and  res4 


S  *  \OUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

these  words:  ' Allan  Fawcett,  Commission  Merchant^ 
78  South  Street"  Then  she  looked  at  the  young  man. 

"  Are  you  an  employee  of  Mr.  Fawcett  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No,"  he  said,  reddening  a  little.  "  I  am  Mr.  Faw- 
cett, himself." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  lady.  And  she  was  so  lost  in  this 
discovery,  considering  the  youth  of  the  commission 
merchant,  that  she  forgot  for  the  moment  the  subject 
which  had  brought  on  the  conversation. 

"  I  am  only  going  to  Glendon,"  said  Allan,  again ; 
"  and  I  shall  be  back  to  Norwood  by  five.  I  can  step 
into  the  store  you  spoke  of  and  do  your  errand  without 
the  least  trouble." 

Then  the  lady  thanked  him,  and  accepted  his  offer. 
She  handed  him  one  of  her  own  cards,  with  the  name 
of  "  Mrs.  Lucius  Morey  "  on  one  side  and  the  neces- 
sary words  pencilled  on  the  other.  She  seemed  to  be 
a  widow,  judging  from  her  garments,  and,  as  he  after- 
wards learned,  the  late  Mr.  Morey  had  been  deceased 
for  a  number  of  years. 

There  was  not  time  for  a  very  lengthy  conversation 
before  the  young  man  reached  his  destination.  In  the 
little  that  he  said  he  impressed  Mrs.  Morey  very 
strongly  in  his  favor,  and  she  invited  him  to  call  upon 
her  should  he  ever  visit  the  village  of  Gleason,  where 
she  lived.  He  said  he  sometimes  had  occasion  to  go 
there,  and  would  not  forget  her  invitation,  and  then 
the  train  stopped  and  he  alighted. 

"He  is  a  bright  young  man,'*  mused  Mrs.  Morey, 
when  he  was  gone.  "  I  hope  he  will  come  and  see  us. 
He  is  very  bright,  indeed." 

When  Fawcett  had  done  the  errand  for  Mrs.  Morey 
he  dismissed  her  from  his  mind.  He  had  only  accept* 
ed  her  invitation  out  of  politeness,  and,  in  truth,  sup- 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  ij 

posed  that  the  only  reason  she  had  given  it.  The  Kfe 
he  led  was  a  purely  business  one.  He  had  never  been 
into  a  private  residence  since  he  left  his  father's  after 
the  funeral,  five  years  previous.  His  acquaintances 
were  mainly  business  men.  His  time  out  of  business 
hours  was  largely  spent  in  reading,  of  which  he  was 
passionately  fond.  He  found  the  great  novelists, 
poets,  and  historians  a  grateful  change  after  a  day  spent 
in  selling  produce,  or  in  seeking  new  customers  who 
would  consign  their  goods  to  him. 

Had  he  been  possessed  of  a  fortune  he  might  have 
written  things  himself  that  would  have  been  worth 
reading,  for  he  had  an  imaginative  temperament,  and 
his  ideals  were  passionate  and  poetic.  The  necessity 
of  providing  for  his  own  needs,  and  more  than  all  the 
solitary  life  he  led,  with  no  one  to  advise  or  direct  him, 
kept  him  along  the  lines  of  trade.  He  had  not  been 
long  in  discovering  that  God  seems  to  help  only  those 
who  help  themselves,  and  that  poverty  was  a  hateful 
thing  that  men  should  escape  as  soon  as  possible. 

Still,  he  had  a  dream  that  a  day  would  yet  come  to 
him  when,  in  a  library  of  his  own,  surrounded  by  the 
books  he  loved,  he  might  read  away  the  days  and  even- 
ings, with  the  price  of  butter  and  the  quality  of  eggs  no 
longer  a  prime  consideration.  He  had  that  object  in 
his  work,  that  hope  and  belief  that  if  he  toiled  faith- 
fully an  end  would  come  to  it  all  in  time  and  the  reward 
be  his. 

There  was  not  in  these  vague  visions  any  figure  of  a 
woman.  Fawcett  was  not  at  that  period  a  susceptible 
man  toward  the  fair  sex.  He  seldom  paid  particu- 
lar attention  to  the  girls  that  he  met  in  his  travels 
or  in  his  walks  about  the  streets.  He  went  to  the 
theatre  occasionally,  but  it  was  the  quality  of  the  act' 


14  YOUNG  PAWCETT'S  MAMML. 

ing  rather  than  the  physical  perfection  of  the 
that  remained  in  his  memory.  As  for  the  church,  that 
great  matrimonial  agency,  he  did  not  go  there  at  all. 
Of  a  Sunday  he  was  more  likely  to  be  found  in  his 
room,  buried  in  a  volume  of  Thackeray,  or  George- 
Sand,  or  Turgenieff,  than  anywhere  else.  Some- 
times— indeed  frequently — he  forgot  his  dinner  whilf 
thus  engaged,  and  more  than  once  he  found  the  morn- 
ing sun  peeping  in  at  the  window  as  he  closed  a  book 
he  had  only  intended  to  read  till  eleven  o'clock  of 
so. 

I  will  not  say — I,  who  have  promised  to  tell  the 
whole  truth  about  this  man — that  hen  ever  turned  his 
steps  toward  those  habitations  which  are  permitted  but 
not  approved  in  our  cities.  I  will  not  guarantee  that 
he  never  rang  bells  or  entered  doors  at  places  of  which 
the  least  said  is  always  considered  the  better.  But  I 
will  say  that  there  was  nothing  about  his  life  that  could 
be  called  dissipation,  whatever  be  the  opinion  of  its 
doubtful  morality  in  the  respect  just  alluded  to.  He 
spent  little  of  his  time  or  substance  with  women,  and 
of  other  vices  he  had  practically  none  whatever.  That 
is  to  say — he  did  not  know  how  to  play  a  single  game 
of  cards ;  he  drank  nothing  intoxicating  except  a  glass 
of  beer  at  rare  intervals ;  and  he  did  not  use  tobacco  in 
any  form.  There  are  men  who  dissipate  by  too  much 
work — he  did  not  even  do  that.  The  occasional  all 
night  at  his  books  was  the  only  thing  that  approached 
it.  His  health  was  good,  his  habits  were  not  bad,  on 
the  whole,  and  his  business  friends  considered  him  a 
model  young  man. 

He  did  not  go  to  Mrs.  Morey's,  because  he  thought 
her  invitation  a  perfunctory  one,  and  also  because 
be  did  not  see  what  particular  pleasure  he  should  dt> 


YOUNG  FA  WCSTT'S  MABEL.  15 

rive  from  her  society.  She  was  evidently  a  lady,  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  term,  and  he  had  a  notion  that  he 
would  rather  spend  five  minutes  talking  with  one  of 
that  description  than  any  longer  period.  He  imagined 
that  his  stock  of  conversational  subjects  would  run 
completely  dry  in  that  time.  He  did  not  like  to 
answer  personal  questions,  which  she  would  be  likely 
to  ask,  nor  had  he  any  wish  to  propound  inquiries  of 
that  nature  to  her. 

Fawcett  was  becoming  rather  eccentric,  and  prided 
himself  upon  that  fact.  There  was  nothing  about  him 
of  the  ladies'  man,  and  he  did  not  mean  there  ever 
should  be.  He  would  not  buy  a  silk  hat,  and  very 
seldom  donned  a  pair  of  kid  gloves,  from  a  notion  that 
such  things  were  beneath  the  dignity  of  an  energetic, 
fellow.  They  seemed  to  him  an  effeminate  affectation, 
an  attempt  to  imitate  the  delicate  attire  of  women. 
He  would  have  worn  a  velvet  jacket  on  the  street  as 
soon  as  a  pair  of  patent  leather  shoes,  at  that  time  in 
his  career.  And  it  is  hardly  too  strong  a  way  of 
putting  it  to  say  that  he  would  much  rather  have 
pushed  a  hand-cart  along  the  principal  street  at  the 
fashionable  hour  than  to  have  made  the  same  journey 
with  a  lady  on  his  arm. 

It  was  a  source  of  wonder  to  him  afterward  that  he 
ever  was  beguiled  into  the  parlor  of  Mrs.  Lucius 
Morey.  The  process  was  so  insidious  that  he  could 
never  tell  afterwards  exactly  how  it  came  about. 
Several  weeks  after  that  day  on  the  railroad  he  saw 
her  at  Gleason.  They  met  at  a  corner,  and  there  was 
no  escape  when  she  stopped  and  addressed  him 
pleasantly,  saying  she  must  thank  him  once  more  for 
the  favor  he  had  done  her  about  the  parcel.  He  an- 
swered that  it  was  not  worth  speaking  of,  and  then 


X6  YOUNG  FA  WCETT**  MABEL. 

paused,  hoping  this  would  end  the  conversation.  But 
Mrs.  Morey  went  on  to  inquire  why  he  had  never 
called,  and  to  say  that  she  had  looked  for  him  daily 
for  more  than  a  week  after  they  parted.  Before  they 
separated  she  had  inveigled  him — as  he  always  put  it 
—into  a  definite  promise  that  he  would  visit  her  very 
soon. 

With  Allan  Fawcett  a  promise  was  a  promise. 
There  was  no  way  out  of  it,  now  it  was  made.  The 
next  time  he  came  to  Gleason  he  went  to  Mrs. 
Morey's.  It  was  early  in  the  evening,  for  he  had  to 
stay  in  the  town  over  night.  He  meant  to  plead  an- 
other engagement  later,  for  this  sort  of  polite  lying 
even  he  considered  admissible.  Nevertheless  the  lady 
was  so  agreeable  and  soon  put  him  so  much  at  his  ease 
that  the  clock  struck  ten  before  he  knew  it  was  half 
that  time. 

Without  seeming  in  the  least  disagreeably  inquisitive, 
Mrs.  Morey  learned  most  of  the  facts  that  she  cared  to 
know  before  the  door  closed  after  him  on  that  first 
evening  at  her  house.  She  had  found  that  he  was  an 
orphan,  than  he  was  making  a  business  career  entirely 
unaided,  that  he  already  had  money  in  the  bank,  and 
that  his  habits  were  exceptionally  good.  She  could 
see  for  herself  that  he  was  pleasing  in  his  personal  ap- 
pearance, and  that  he  was  apparently  destined  for  a 
long  life. 

"  And  so  you  have  no  intimate  friends  in  Norwood," 
she  said,  musingly.  "  Excuse  me  for  saying  that  is  not 
good  for  a  young  man.  It  is  not  well  to  be  too  much 
alone  during  one's  early  years." 

She  was  so  kind  in  her  manner  that  he  felt,  as  she 
intended  him  to  feel,  that  she  took  a  real  interest  in  his 
welfare. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT*S  MABEL.  iy 

"  Don't  forget,"  she  added,  when  he  did  not  reply, 
"that  you  are  always  welcome  here  and  that  I  shall 
take  it  to  heart  if  you  ever  come  to  Gleason  without 
calling." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said.  "  Have  you  always  lived  in 
this  village  ? " 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  !  "  replied  Mrs.  Morey.  "  I  came 
here  after  my  husband  died,  because — well,  to  be  per- 
fectly  honest,  because  it  was  cheaper  than  New  York, 
where  we  formerly  resided.  The  place  is  a  little  too 
dull.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  stay  here  much  longer. 
I  wonder  if  Norwood  is  much  dearer." 

Fawcett  answered  that  he  could  hardly  say  as  to 
that,  never  having  kept  house.  He  supposed  the 
rents  were  higher,  but  other  things  must  be  about  the 
same.  She  secured  his  promise  to  look  about  and  see 
what  a  small  house  could  be  hired  for,  something  with 
six  to  eight  rooms,  and  to  let  her  know  the  next  time 
he  came  to  Gleason. 

"  If  I  should  move  to  Norwood  I  should  be  likely  to 
see  more  of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Morey,  brightly.  "  As  I 
have  no  friends  there  and  you  so  few  outside  of  your 
business,  I  should  hope  to  have  you  call  often." 

A  proper  reply  was  made  to  this  suggestion,  which 
did  not  seem  to  mean  much  at  the  time. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  meet  a  young  man,  in  these  days, 
continued  the  lady,  "who  is  not  complaining  of  the 
lack  of  opportunities,  or  hanging  upon  relations.  I 
sometimes  grow  pessimistic  when  I  look  at  the  rising 
generation.  I  have  heard  my  young  friends  say  that 
the  opportunities  to  make  a  living  have  all  disappeared, 
and  that  no  one  can  get  along  nowadays  unless  he 
has  money  to  make  a  start.  Your  case  proves  the 
fallacy  of  that  argument.  It  takes  nothing  but  push 


it  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABRL. 

and  pluck  to  ensure  success,  the  same  as  it  always  did. 
You  will  have  a  comfortable  fortune  by  the  time  you 
are  forty,  and  be  able  to  take  your  ease  for  the  rest  of 
your  life.  There  is  only  one  road  to  success,  and  that 
is  work." 

Fawcett  had  said  this  to  himself  so  many  times  that 
he  was  pleased  to  hear  the  thought  expressed  so  well 
by  another,  and  he  liked  Mrs.  Morey  better  from  that 
moment. 

"  He  is  certain  to  succeed,"  said  Mrs.  Morey,  reflect- 
ively, after  he  had  gone.  "  He  suits  me  even  better 
than  I  expected.  I  will  move  to  Norwood,  where  I  can 
be  near  him." 

"  Yes,"  she  added,  "  I  really  think  he  is  the  very 
man  I  want  for  Mabel." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"IF    YOU  COULD   HAVE  A   ROOM." 

AND  who  was  Mabel  ? 

Mabel  Morey  was  her  mother's  only  child.  At  the 
time  of  which  I  am  writing  she  was  in  her  eighteenth 
year.  Relations  better  off  in  the  gear  of  this  world 
had  invited  her  to  visit  them,  and  she  was  now  in 
Cleveland,  Ohio,  where  they  resided. 

In  her  plans  for  this  daughter  Mrs.  Morey  had  no 
intention  to  hasten  the  natural  course  of  events,  so  far 
as  time  was  concerned.  She  would  have  been  shocked 
at  the  idea  that  Mabel  would  marry  before  she  was  at 
least  twenty.  But  she  had  an  eye  for  the  future.  She 
was  so  well  pleased  with  the  young  commission  mer- 
chant that  she  thought  it  wise  to  cultivate  him  and 


YOUNG  FAWCMTTS  MABEL.  19 

keep  him  in  tow,  until  the  right  time  came.  She  con- 
ceived a  plan  of  getting  him  and  her  daughter  ac- 
quainted, that  friendship  might  ensue  and  gradually 
ripen  into  love. 

There  was  nothing  more  important  in  the  life  of  a 
young  girl  than  that  she  should  marry  well.  And  it 
was  not  the  man  who  had  the  most  wealth  at  the  age 
of  twenty  that  would  be  certain  to  make  the  best  hus- 
band or,  in  the  end,  the  most  prosperous  one.  Habits 
formed  before  that  time  might  make  or  break  him. 
Allan  Fawcett  had  as  yet  but  little  wealth,  but  he 
seemed  on  the  sure  road  to  success.  The  richest  men 
of  the  country  had  started  from  as  humble  beginnings 
as  he.  Some  of  the  poorest  had  inherited  property 
and  had  squandered  it  in  foolish  speculation  or  in 
riotous  living.  Mrs.  Morey  had  thought  a  good  deal 
about  these  things,  and  when  she  happened  to  meet 
this  young  fellow  it  came  to  her  as  by  an  inspiration 
that  he  was  the  one  she  should  select  for  a  son- 
in-law. 

I  wonder  how  many  married  men  realize  that  they 
were  the  victims  of  a  carefully-prepared  scheme  on  the 
part  of  a  managing  mamma ;  that  the  lane  through 
which  they  reached  the  gate  of  matrimony  was  marked 
out  for  them  in  the  most  ingenious  way  by  that  expert 
engineer  and  surveyor.  Certain  it  is  that  Allan  Faw- 
cett, unversed  as  a  babe  in  such  things,  never  dreamed 
that  Mrs.  Morey  had  any  designs  on  him  until  long 
after  his  scalp  hung,  metaphorically  speaking,  at  her 
belt.  She  proceeded  with  the  utmost  discretion.  She 
kept  Mabel  at  Cleveland  until  she  had  engaged  a  house 
in  Norwood  that  Fawcett  found  for  her,  and  had  moved 
her  household  gods  into  it  and  set  up  her  new  throne 
there.  Ay,  until  she  even  had  him  a  willing  slave  at 


to  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

her  chariot  wheels,  and  had  made  him  a  member  of 
her  family. 

A  member  of  her  family  ?    Yes. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can  hardly  afford  as  expensive  a 
house  as  this,"  she  said,  demurely,  when  she  had  in- 
spected the  premises  with  her  future  son-in-law.  "  I 
did  not  realize  that  rents  were  so  much  deartr  than  in 
Gleason.  There  was  a  time  " — and  here  she  breathed  a 
sigh — "  when  I  did  not  have  to  think  of  such  matters. 
My  husband  never  stopped  to  ask  how  much  anything 
cost  that  he  or  I  wanted.  Had  he  stopped  oftener  I 
might  have  been  richer  now."  She  looked  at  Fawcett's 
sympathetic  face  and  then  continued,  "  Do  you  sup- 
pose it  would  be  possible  for  me  to  secure  a  lodger, 
who  would  take  one  of  the  rooms  ?  That  would  help  a 
great  deal." 

He  had  a  thoughtful  expression  for  a  moment,  and 
ended  by  saying  that  perhaps  an  advertisement  in  the 
local  paper  might  have  that  result. 

"  I  don't  ask  it  for  the  sake  of  being  inquisitive," 
said  the  lady,  after  a  pause,  "  but  would  you  mind  tell- 
ing me  what  such  rooms  rent  for  here  in  Norwood  ? 
You  hire  one  yourself.  It  would  give  me  an  idea." 

Fawcett  told  her  what  he  was  paying  by  the  week, 
and  she  figured  up  the  monthly  rate,  after  the  manner 
of  women,  multiplying  by  four. 

11  If  I  could  let  a  room  at  that  price,"  she  said,  "  I 
should  feel  that  I  could  afford  to  take  the  house.  I 
have  plenty  of  furniture  that  is  very  good  indeed.  This 
room  we  are  in  " — they  stood  in  the  best  chamber — 
"  is  it  as  good  as  yours,  do  you  think  ? " 

It  was  much  better  than  his,  and  he  told  her  so,  in 
the  same  honest  way  that  he  had  always  spoken.  His 
room  was  up  another  flight  and  in  the  rear  at  that, 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  2| 

This  room  ought  to  let  for  a  dollar  a  week  more,  at 
least. 

"  I  suppose,"  continued  Mrs.  Morey,  after  showing 
him  the  closets,  and  remarking  that  the  street  was  ex- 
tremely quiet,  "  that  you  wouldn't — no,  of  course,  you 
wouldn't  like  to  make  a  change  ?  If  you  could  have 
this  room  at  the  same  price  you  are  paying,  or  at  a 
slight  reduction " 

Allan  paused  to  think  before  he  replied.  He  did  not 
care  particularly  for  the  house  in  which  he  was  living, 
but  on  the  other  hand  he  disliked  moving,  that  pulling 
up  of  stakes  that  even  a  bachelor  has  to  do  when  he 
changes  his  domicile.  Then  again  there  was  no 
restaurant  in  this  vicinity  where  he  could  get  meals, 
and  he  did  not  think  it  would  be  convenient  to  walk 
half-a-dozen  blocks.  But  the  room  was  certainly  a 
great  improvement  over  the  one  he  had.  It  was  larger, 
and  papered  with  bright  new  paper,  and  painted  with 
bright  new  paint.  Each  of  the  two  closets  was  bigger 
than  his  single  one. 

He  began  in  imagination  to  place  some  of  his  belong- 
ings about  this  room.  His  bookcase  would  go  in  that 
corner  very  well,  and  his  writing-desk  in  this  one. 
The  bed,  of  course,  would  go  there,  and  the  bureau 
there. 

He  did  not  think  at  all  of  the  gain  to  this  widow  from 
letting  her  room  to  him.  It  is  one  of  the  pleasures  of 
telling  a  true  story  that  you  do  not  have  to  ascribe 
superior  virtues  to  your  characters.  Allan  Fawcett 
was  a  selfish  young  man.  He  did  not  see  why  he 
should  make  a  change  in  his  room  merely  to  oblige  an- 
other person.  Unless  it  was  in  some  way  to  his  own 
advantage  he  would  remain  where  he  was.  Contact 
with  the  business  world  had  taught  him  that  all  matters 


It  TQVNG  FA  WCXTTV  MABEL. 

involving  dollars  and  cents  must  be  considered  from  a 
sordid  standpoint. 

"  The  room  is  all  right,"  he  said,  finally,  just  as  the 
widow  was  about  to  speak  again.  "  I  have  no  doubt 
you  can  let  it  at  that  price  to  some  one.  If  it  were 
nearer  the  restaurants  I  would  say  at  once  that  I 
would  take  it.  All  that  makes  me  hesitate  is  the  long 
walk  to  breakfast." 

Mrs.  Morey  was  piqued  for  an  instant  at  this  state- 
ment. She  had  thought  him  gifted  with  a  little  finer 
sense  of  the  delicacy  of  her  situation.  He  evidently 
considered  the  hiring  of  this  room  from  the  same  stand- 
point that  he  would  have  bought  a  cargo  of  butter  or 
a  carload  of  hay.  But  her  strong  head  controlled  her, 
and  the  engaging  smile  never  left  her  countenance. 
More  diplomatic  young  men  there  might  be,  but  cer- 
tainly this  one  would  have  a  shrewd  eye  to  the  neces- 
sities of  life,  and  if  Mabel  secured  him  for  a  husband 
she  would  not  be  left  in  want  some  day  on  account  of 
his  extravagance.  The  more  she  thought  it  over  the 
better  pleased  she  was  at  his  carefulness. 

"  I  can  arrange  that  for  you,  I  am  sure,"  she  said 
sweetly.  "  I  will  have  your  breakfast  at  any  hour  you 
name,  served  in  my  own  dining-room.  As  to  the 
price,"  for  she  readily  guessed  that  this  matter  would 
have  its  weight  with  him,  "  you  shall  fix  that  to  suit 
yourself.  After  breakfasting  so  long  at  restaurants  it 
may  be  a  pleasant  change  to  sit  at  the  table  of  a 
private  house,  even  though  the  variety  is  not  quite  as 
great." 

The  variety !  It  struck  him  for  the  first  time  that 
there  had  not  been  much  variety  of  late  at  the  place 
where  he  took  his  meals.  He  cared  little  for  the 
luxuries  of  the  table,  but  he  recalled  with  no  ray 


fO  UNO  FA  WCE  TT  'S  MA  BEL.  23 

warm  sentiments  the  everlasting  steak,  steak,  steak, 
that  he  had  only  varied  by  eggs,  eggs,  eggs,  and  the 
not  over-palatable  beverage  dignified  by  some  strange 
freak  with  the  name  of  coffee.  He  pictured  to  himself  a 
cosy  dining-room,  with  a  table-cloth  that  was  sure  to 
be  clean,  and  an  atmosphere  that  would  at  least  not 
be  smoky  or  filled  with  buzzing  flies. 

"  I  rise  very  early,"  he  answered  absently.  "  I  am 
always  down  by  seven  o'clock." 

The  lady  smiled  approvingly. 

"Your  breakfast  shall  never  keep  you  waiting  a 
minute  after  that  hour,"  said  she.  "  Then  we  will  call 
it  settled.  I  will  take  the  house,  beginning  from  the 
first  of  the  month,  and  in  a  fortnight  from  to-day  we 
shall  find  ourselves  settled  here." 

Fawcett  was  too  good  a  man  to  be  caught  in  this 
way  had  he  not  concluded  that  it  was  for  his  interest 
to  make  the  change.  He  had  no  associates  in  his 
present  lodging-house  that  he  cared  much  about.  His 
habits  were  retiring,  as  ,has  already  been  stated.  He 
was  confident  that  Mrs.  Morey  would  make  a  good- 
natured  and  obliging  landlady.  He  replied,  accord- 
ingly, that  he  would  accompany  her  to  the  agent  of 
the  property  to  close  the  agreement,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  they  were  at  the  office  of  that  functionary. 

The  agent  had  a  momentary  look  of  surprise  when 
Fawcett  volunteered  to  be  surety  for  the  payment  of 
the  rent,  for  the  first  three  months,  Mrs.  Morey  being 
a  stranger  in  the  place.  He  knew  the  young  man  very 
well,  and  had  the  opinion  of  him  that  was  cur- 
rent.  He  had  never  heard  him  speak  of  relations,  and 
wondered  what  there  might  be  in  this  new  develop- 
ment of  interest  in  a  rather  good-looking  widow,  even 
though  she  was  considerably  his  elder.  But  business 


24  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MAS  EL. 

was  business  with  him,  and  he  said  Mr.  Fawcett's  word 
was  fully  sufficient,  and  that  he  should  consider  the 
house  leased. 

The  fabled  parlor  of  the  spider  could  not  have  looked 
more  attractive  to  the  little  fly  than  Allan  Fawcett's 
chamber  did  to  him  when  he  next  beheld  it.  Mrs. 
Morey  was  one  of  the  best  housekeepers  in  the  world, 
a  perfect  paragon  of  taste  and  neatness.  Her  furni- 
ture was  much  better  than  that  at  his  old  lodging,  but 
this  was  not  half  the  change.  There  was  an  air  of 
brightness  about  the  room  that  he  had  never  known  in 
any  other  since  the  days  of  childhood. 

The  lace  curtains  were  surmounted  by  white  lambre- 
quins, fringed  with  gold  braid.  Behind  the  commode 
was  a  splasher,  worked  deftly  in  red  with  a  representa- 
tion of  a  haymaking  scene.  On  the  bureau  were  mats 
as  fresh  and  clean  as  could  be.  Over  the  white 
counterpane  of  the  bed  was  spread  a  lace  covering  to 
match  the  shams,  which  though  of  an  inexpensive  kind 
seemed  to  the  inexperienced  eyes  of  the  young  man 
too  fine  for  every-day  use.  There  were  mats  on  the 
floor,  of  cheerful  colors ;  and  a  wicker-basket,  to 
receive  the  litter  from  his  desk,  was  tied  jauntily  with 
cherry  ribbon.  The  bareness  of  the  walls  was  relieved 
by  pictures  in  every  possible  place,  and  worked 
mottoes  hung  over  the  doors.  He  sat  down  quite  over- 
come with  all  these  glories,  and  congratulated  himself 
at  obtaining  them  without  extra  cost,  except  for  mov- 
ing his  few  personal  belongings  from  Mrs.  Chapin's. 

It  takes  very  little  to  make  a  room  cheerful,  and  yet 
how  few  women  are  real  mistresses  of  the  art.  How 
few  understand  that  there  is  nothing  so  cheerful  as 
light !  How  few  realize  that  things  the  most  costly 
are  not  always  the  most  attractive  1  There  were  a 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  25 

\undred  chambers  in  Norwood  whose  furnishings  cost 
;nuch  more  than  the  one  in  which  Allan  Fawcett  was 
to  lodge,  but  not  one,  I  am  sure,  which  would  have 
suited  him  better. 

And  it  was  all  at  the  price  he  had  formerly 
paid.  The  reader  will  pardon  the  young  merchant,  I 
trust,  for  this  constantly  recurring  thought.  He  had 
Been  the  hardest  kind  of  youth.  He  had  spent  years 
<vhen  cents  seemed  bigger  to  him  than  dollars  do  to 
most  people,  when  hardly  anything  stood  between  him 
and  hunger,  from  month  to  month.  In  such  a  school  the 
pupil  learns  to  count  the  pennies  and  to  search  for 
bargains. 

Mrs.  Morey  wisely  left  him  to  himself  a  great  deal. 
She  knew  by  intuition  that  he  liked  his  room,  and  that 
it  must  be  an  agreeable  change  from  any  that  could  be 
found  in  an  ordinary  lodging-house.  The  first  morn- 
ing she  did  not  trust  her  maid-of-all-work  to  get  him 
his  breakfast  unaided,  but  rose  at  five  and  put  her  own 
hands  into  the  flour  that  the  biscuits  might  be  as  light 
and  the  muffins  as  good  as  they  could  be  made.  She 
fixed  the  table  herself  and  put  the  coffee  into  the  pot, 
and  saw  that  the  lamb  chops  and  omelette  wer»  done  to 
perfection. 

If  this  young  man  was  to  be  won,  much  depended 
on  this  first  breakfast  in  his  new  quarters.  Mrs. 
Morey  had  done  these  things  even  in  the  years  when  she 
had  kept  three  servants  instead  of  one,  for  her  hus- 
band had  a  dainty  mouth  and  wanted  his  meals  well 
served.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  none  of 
his  friends  possessed  such  a  chef&s  he,  and  that  there 
was  no  hotel  in  the  land  where  he  enjoyed  the  cooking 
as  well  as  at  his  home.  It  may  readily  be  conceived 
that  young  Mr.  Fawcett,  used  to  the  ordinary  fare  of 


26  YQUNC  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

restaurants  and  second-class  hostelries,  could  not  flW 
much  fault  with  what  had  pleased  an  epicure  like  the 
late  lamented  Mr.  Morey. 

Allan  was  punctual  to  the  minute,  when  he  heard 
the  tinkle  of  the  little  bell  that  Bridget  rang  at  the  foot 
of  his  stairs.  He  was  surprised  to  find  Mrs.  Morey 
awaiting  him  in  the  dining-room,  for  he  knew  the  houi- 
was  earlier  than  most  ladies  are  in  the  habit  of  making 
their  appearance.  She  remarked  that  she  was  natur- 
ally an  early  riser,  and  that  now  she  had  some  one  to 
keep  her  company  at  the  meal  she  would  generally 
breakfast  with  him.  She  did  not  intimate  that  she  had 
had  any  hand  in  the  preparation  of  the  repast,  how- 
ever, and  it  was  a  long  time  afterward  that  he  made 
the  discovery. 

Fawcett  knew  that  the  meal  was  the  best  he  had 
tasted  for  a  long  time,  but  he  did  not  understand  why. 
Surely  he  had  eaten  chops  and  omelettes  times  enough 
and  had  drunk  coffee  and  tasted  muffins.  He  tried  to 
discover  what  gave  the  different  flavor  to  this  break- 
fast, and  decided  that  most  of  it  must  be  due  to  the 
agreeable  surroundings.  The  silver  coffee-pot,  milk 
pitcher  and  sugar-bowl,  relics  of  former  greatness, 
might  have  something  to  do  with  it ;  the  vase  in  the 
centre  of  the  table,  filled  with  fresh  flowers,  probably 
did  its  share,  he  reflected.  The  daintiness  of  the  china, 
another  heirloom,  and  the  immaculateness  of  the  linen 
helped  also.  He  did  not  believe  that  there  could  be 
so  much  difference  in  coffee  and  muffins  as  he  seemed 
to  find. 

Such  a  room  and  such  a  breakfast  he  had  never  had 
during  those  years  of  his  independence.  And  they 
cost  no  more !  He  kept  thinking  of  that,  and  it  added 
greatly  to  the  satisfaction  he  f«lt.  Had  he  increased 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  2j 

his  expenses  he  would  have  experienced  a  twinge.  He 
wanted  to  accumulate  money  as  fast  as  he  could  for  a 
good  while  yet.  He  meant  to  have  a  large  sum  in 
hand  before  he  began  anything  that  savored  of  luxu- 
rious living.  And  this  was  at  the  same  price  he  had  paid 
before  !  He  decided  that  he  had  made  a  very  excel- 
lent bargain. 

Two  weeks  after  he  entered  the  house  as  a 
lodger  Mabel  came  home.  She  was  a  slender  girl, 
with  brownish  hair  and  grayish  eyes,  that  any  one 
would  have  been  justified  in  calling  "pretty."  As  she 
still  lacked  several  months  of  being  eighteen,  her 
mother  continued  to  dress  her  as  a  young  girl,  and  her 
gown  left  a  good  share  of  her  boots  exposed.  Her 
hair  was  ordinarily  braided  in  a  long  plait  that  hung 
down  her  back.  She  had  a  yet  undeveloped  form  and 
a  precocious  air,  such  as  comes  from  association  with 
older  people,  to  children  who  have  neither  brother  nor 
sister.  She  looked  fourteen  and  acted  twenty. 

Her  mother's  taste  was  shown  in  her  apparel  as  well 
as  in  everything  else  upon  the  premises.  In  Mabel's 
gowns  and  hats  Mrs.  Morey  made  a  very  little  money 
go  a  great  way. 

Fawcett  paused  at  the  threshold  on  the  morning 
when  he  first  saw  this  girl  in  the  dining-room,  at  the 
punctual  hour  of  seven,  which  he  never  failed  to  keep. 

"  Mr.  Fawcett,  allow  me  to  present  my  daughter," 
said  the  widow,  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way.  Then, 
when  he  had  made  the  customary  reply,  she  added,  as 
they  all  took  seats  at  the  table,  "  Mabel  has  been  liv- 
ing for  some  months  with  relations  of  ours  in  Ohio." 

The  young  man's  first  impression  was  that  he  wished 
Mabel  had  stayed  in  Ohio,  or  somewhere  else.  Things 
were  very  comfortable  a»  they  were,  and  he  did  not 


»S  YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

think  the  addition  of  another  person  to  the  circle 
would  improve  them  any.  He  had  been  assuming  a 
sort  of  proprietary  air  over  the  whole  place,  encouraged 
by  Mrs.  Morey's  frequent  requests  for  him  to  say  what 
he  would  prefer  in  the  various  departments  of  house- 
keeping. This  girl  was  not  in  his  contract,  as  one 
might  say.  He  wondered  why  the  mother,  in  all  their 
conversations,  had  never  alluded  to  her.  She  might 
at  least  have  asked  if  a  daughter  in  the  house  would 
be  objectionable  to  him.  These  thoughts  ran  through 
the  head  of  the  unreasonable  young  man  during  the 
progress  of  the  meal ;  but  as  Miss  Mabel  relapsed  into 
a  state  of  complete  silence  after  her  introduction,  and 
as  the  viands  seemed  to  have  suffered  no  diminution 
in  quality  from  her  presence,  and  as  Mrs.  Morey  was 
as  bright  and  charming  as  ever,  he  dismissed  his  fears 
before  he  rose  to  go  to  his  office. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him?"  asked  the 
mother,  when  the  boarder  had  gone. 

"  He's  a  little  green  and  gawky,"  was  the  girl's 
reply. 

"  Yes,  but  he's  a  good  business  man  and  doing  well. 
I  have  heard  in  a  roundabout  way  that  his  check  is 
good  for  a  thousand  dollars  any  time,  and  he's  only 
twenty.  If  everything  goes  right  he'll  be  a  rich 
man." 

Mabel  shrugged  her  shoulders,  as  if  to  say  that 
might  be  true  and  then  again  it  might  not.  She  leaned 
back  in  her  chair  and  yawned  a  little. 

"  It's  terrible  to  get  up  at  this  time  of  day,"  she 
said,  stretching  herseH.  ••  At  Uncle  Zeba's  I've  lain 
till  nine  always." 

"  At  Uncle  Zeba's  you  had  no  business  on  hand,'' 
trailed  her  mother. 


YOUtfG  FA  WCETT'S  MASML.  29 

The  girl  looked  bored. 

"  You  say  you  don't  want  me  to  marry  till  I'm 
twenty,"  she  expostulated.  "  Have  I  got  to  get  up 
every  morning  till  then  at  half-past  six  ?  I  think  that's 
commencing  a  long  way  back." 

The  mother,  who  sat  next  to  her,  leaned  over  and 
kissed  the  pouting  mouth. 

"  I  began  earlier  than  that  on  your  father,"  she 
said.  "  I  used  to  go  to  the  gate  and  watch  for  him 
when  I  was  only  ten.  He  was  about  twenty-five  then, 
and  he  used  to  stop  and  let  me  hunt  in  his  pockets 
for  candy  that  he  had  bought  for  me.  One  day,  when 
I  was  seventeen,  just  your  age,  Mabel,  he  asked  me  to 
marry  him.  I  had  been  expecting  it  for  fully  six 
years,  but  when  it  came  I  felt  terribly  frightened." 

Mabel  looked  up  with  a  puzzled  expression. 

"Frightened,  mamma!  What  was  there  to  make 
you  frightened  ? " 

"  Ah,  my  child ! "  cried  the  widow. 

The  girl  shook  her  head  decidedly. 

"  No  man  will  ever  frighten  tne,"  she  said.  "  I 
would  be  willing  to  marry  one  to-day.  Why  do  I  need 
to  wait  so  long  ?  If  you  could  marry  at  seventeen, 
why  can't  I  ? " 

A  little  shiver  ran  over  the  frame  of  the  mother. 

"  You  want  to  get  married  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

The  girl  nodded  her  head  three  or  four  times  in  a 
way  that  indicated  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  that. 

"  What  for  ? " 

"  What  did  you  want  it  for  ?  "  was  the  rather  mock* 
ing  reply. 

"  Because  I  was  a  little  fool ! " 

"  Then  I  must  be  one,  too,"  said  Mabel,  laughing. 

"You  certainly  must,"  said  her  mother,  "if  you 


$«  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

want  to  take  on  the  cares  of  married  life  at  your  age. 
Twenty  is  soon  enough  for  any  girl  to  marry.  I  would 
go  further,  if  I  had  money  enough  for  you,  and  tell  you 
never  to  marry  at  all.  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with 
your  father,  though  he  never  would  give  a  thought  to 
the  future.  But  marriage  is  nothing  but  a  necessary 
evil.  Any  woman  who  can  support  herself  without  it 
is  foolish  to  throw  away  her  liberty." 

Mabel  laughed  outright. 

"Oh,  I  never  shall  do  that!"  she  cried.  "  I  shall 
be  as  free  to  do  what  I  please  when  I  am  married  as  if 
I  were  the  biggest  old  maid  in  Christendom." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  poor 
dear,"  said  the  mother,  soothingly.  "The  first  thing, 
however,  in  the  preparation  of  a  rabbit  pie,  is  '  catch 
your  rabbit.'  Mr.  Fawcett  is  a  rather  eccentric  young 
man,  but  his  habits  are  perfect,  and  he  has  no  female 
associates.  You  will  need  to  be  very  circumspect  with 
him,  as  his  first  impressions  are  strong.  For  the 
present  you  must  say  nothing  except  what  ordinary 
civility  requires,  unless  he  addresses  you.  You  will 
have  to  come  to  breakfast,  as  he  believes  early  rising  a 
great  virtue,  and  if  necessary  you  can  take  a  nap  in  the 
afternoon  when  he  is  out.  I  expect  him  merely  to  get 
used  to  you  this  year,  to  grow  attached  to  you  in 
a  friendly  way  next  year,  to  fall  in  love  with  you  the 
third,  and  marry  you  the  year  after.  If  you  are  wise 
the  programme  can  be  carried  out  as  I  have  planned 
it,  and  you  will  thank  your  mamma  for  placing  you  in 
a  position  where  you  will  be  assured  of  comfort  the 
rest  of  your  life." 

Mabel  yawned  again. 

"  It's  a  long  programme,  ma,  but  I'll  try.  I  don't 
think  111  ever  learn  to  really  like  him,  though." 


VQUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


CHAPTER  III. 
MABEL  FALLS  IN  LOV*. 

THAT  was  the  way  Allan  Fawcett  and  Mabel  Morey 
met. 

Things  progressed  as  slowly  between  them  at  first  as 
the  mother  of  the  young  lady  could  have  desired.  All 
that  Allan  was  doing  about  Mabel  was  "  getting  used  " 
to  her.  She  did  not  enter  into  his  life  any  more  than 
the  castor  that  sat  on  the  table  or  the  ornament  that 
hung  from  the  little  chandelier.  He  was  very  comfort- 
able at  that  house.  His  room  was  cheerful,  his  break- 
fasts as  good  as  on  the  first  day,  and  no  one  interfered 
with  him  unduly.  Sometimes  he  found  it  agreeable  to 
spend  an  hour  in  the  parlor  of  an  evening,  talking 
quietly  with  his  landlady,  while  Mabel  sat  near  by, 
silent  and  immovable. 

All  this  went  on  until  Mabel's  eighteenth  birthday 
came  and  went.  On  that  day  Mrs.  Morey  mentioned 
at  breakfast  that  it  was  her  daughter's  anniversary, 
and  Fawcett  was  betrayed  into  an  audible  expression 
of  surprise.  He  had  had  an  indistinct  idea  on  the  sub- 
ject, but  would  have  guessed  her  sixteen,  at  the  roost. 
Eighteen  !  She  was  not  so  much  younger  than  himself, 
after  all,  but  then  he  was  older  than  most  men  of 
twenty.  One  morning  shortly  after  this  he  noticed  a 
change  in  the  girl  that  he  could  not  at  first  understand. 
Her  gowns  now  reached  the  floor. 


32  YOUNG  FA  WCETT^S  MABEL. 

From  that  time  Fawcett  began  to  include  Mabel  in 
his  conversations,  but,  under  the  instructions  of  her 
mother,  she  answered  him  in  monosyllables  at  first 
She  did  not  mean  to  appear  forward.  It  happened 
that  he  was  sometimes  alone  with  her  now,  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  she  let  him  do  most  of  the  talking.  He 
began  to  wonder  if  she  was  a  dunce,  she  said  so  very 
little,  but  on  the  whole  he  was  pleased  much  better 
than  if  she  had  turned  out  a  chatterbox. 

He  talked  of  little  beside  business,  and  she  had  the 
hardest  work  to  seem  interested.  She  would  listen  to 
his  account  of  the  sales  he  had  made  during  the  day, 
and  only  respond,  when  there  was  a  pause,  "  I  should 
think  that  was  very  nice,"  or  "  You  are  certainly  doing 
well."  This  made  him  feel  that  she  took  an  interest 
in  him,  and  he  got  into  the  habit  of  telling  her  of 
schemes  that  he  had  on  foot.  How  he  intended  to  buy 
up  all  the  butter  in  a  certain  section  and  make  at  least 
five  cents  a  pound  on  it. 

"  You  will  be  very  rich,  by  and  by,"  she  used  to  say. 

"Yes,"  he  would  reply,  "I  am  sure  of  that  Any 
man  can  get  rich  if  he  is  determined  to.  All  he  needs 
is  pluck  and  push  and  hard  work.  There  is  the  secret 
in  those  three  words.  Some  young  men  think  they 
have  only  to  open  a  store  and  put  out  a  sign  to  bring 
all  the  world  to  patronize  them.  And  there  is  another 
mistake  that  many  make.  They  get  married  too  early." 

The  quiet  little  figure  lifted  its  brows,  as  if  to  ask 
what  that  had  to  do  with  the  subject  under  discussion. 

"  It  costs  a  great  deal  to  keep  house,"  explained 
Allan,  wisely.  "  My  entire  expenses  for  the  past  year, 
not  counting  travel  and  hotels  on  the  route,  which  is  a 
business  charge,  amounted  to  just  $750.  A  married 
man  would  find  that  more  than  doubled.  I  shall  get 


YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL.  33 

married  some  day — when  I  am  about  forty  years  old, 
perhaps — and  then  I  shall  have  enough  money  and  not 
mind  if  it  does  cost." 

"  How  little  he  knows  what  he  will  do !  "  thought  the 
girl,  as  she  listened  to  him. 

Mrs.  Morey  noted  the  increased  interest  of  Mr. 
Fawcett  in  her  daughter  and  was  quite  content.  She 
left  them  together  oftener  as  time  went  on.  Once  in 
awhile  the  young  people  walked  down  town  together  in 
the  evening,  when  they  happened  to  both  be  going 
that  way.  This  could  but  attract  attention  from  the 
neighbors,  and  one  of  them,  who  knew  Allan  well 
enough  to  speak  to,  joked  him  about  it. 

"  You  are  getting  along  very  well  at  the  widow's," 
said  this  man.  "  There  will  be  a  wedding  there,  the 
first  thing  we  know." 

Fawcett  frowned  with  something  very  like  anger  in 
his  face. 

"  You  must  think  me  an  idiot !  "  he  answered,  "  to 
couple  my  name  with  that  of  such  a  child." 

"  A  child  !  She  is  eighteen.  Many  a  '  child '  of  her 
age  has  a  husband.  Look  out  for  yourself  ! " 

The  young  man  was  much  disturbed.  For  a  week 
afterwards  he  carefully  avoided  Mabel  when  he  went 
out  of  doors,  and  once,  when  he  met  her  on  her  way 
home,  he  made  an  excuse  to  remain  down  town  until 
she  had  gone  on  out  of  sight.  She  was  certainly  old 
enough  to  marry,  and  he  did  not  want  people  to  think 
such  things  in  connection  with  him.  But  the  girl  was 
discretion  itself.  She  did  not  appear  to  notice  that 
anything  in  his  behavior  toward  her  had  changed.  He 
decided  finally  to  walk  with  her  as  much  as  he  liked, 
and  let  those  who  wanted  to  talk  about  it  say  what 
they 
3 


34  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABSL. 

In  this  frame  of  mind  he  strolled  through  the  town 
with  her  boldly,  when  opportunity  offered.  She  came 
into  his  office,  sometimes,  on  errands  from  her  mother 
and  walked  back  with  him,  if  it  chanced  to  be  toward 
night.  Before  he  was  aware  of  it  he  had  become 
attached  to  this  quiet  girl,  and  looked  forward  to 
seeing  her  face  when  he  reached  his  lodgings  with  a 
suppressed  eagerness  that  he  could  not  understand. 

"Did  you  know  I  was  going  away  for  a  month f" 
she  asked  him  one  evening,  as  they  sat  alone  in  the 
parlor  after  tea. 

The  look  which  he  flashed  at  her  was  a  sufficient 
answer.  He  did  not  want  her  to  go. 

"  Yes,  my  uncle  has  invited  me  to  come  to  Cleveland 
again." 

"  And  you  are  going  ?  "  he  asked,  with  slight  pallor. 

"  I  think  so.     Mamma  is  willing." 

He  did  not  know  what  to  say.  He  hardly  knew 
what  he  thought  about  it.  He  was  surprised  that  it 
made  any  difference  to  him. 

4<  I  shouldn't  think  she  would  like  to  spare  you,"  be 
said  finally. 

The  girl  laughed. 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  of  so  much  consequence  as  that  I M 
she  exclaimed.  "  Nobody  cares  when  I  go  or  when  I 
return," 

What  was  the  matter  with  him  !  Yes,  there  was  one 
person  who  cared,  but  that  person  would  never  tell  her 
so.  It  was  too  silly  I  If  he  had  begun  to  have  such 
feelings  as  that,  the  sooner  they  were  suppressed  the 
better. 

Mabel  went  to  her  uncle's,  and  the  house  was  so  dull 
that  he  could  not  atay  in  it  evenings,  as  he  had  been  ia 
the  habit  •£  doing.  He  remained  at  the  office  until 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  35 

late  at  night,  looking  over  his  books,  attending  to  cor- 
respondence— doing  anything  to  keep  his  mind  from 
the  missing  article  at  his  lodgings. 

Mrs.  Morey  did  not  mention  Mabel  for  the  first  week. 
Then  she  only  said  that  she  had  received  a  letter  from 
the  girl,  in  which  she  asked  to  be  remembered  to  him. 
He  nodded,  intending  to  imply  that  it  was  of  no  con- 
sequence, but  the  shrewd  match-maker  was  not  discour- 
aged. He  could  conceal  nothing  from  her.  When  he 
left  the  table  she  smiled  contentedly  to  herself. 

"  He  is  unhappy  without  her,"  she  mused.  "All  is 
going  very  well.  Things  get  on  fast  enough.  Nothing 
can  make  my  plan  miscarry  now,  if  Mabel  acts  her  part 
well" 

As  the  end  of  the  month  approached  Fawcett  glanced 
inquiringly  about  the  parlor  and  into  the  dining-room 
when  he  entered  the  house.  He  wanted  to  see  the  girl, 
and  he  did  not  like  to  inquire  for  her.  His  appetite 
was  not  as  good  as  formerly.  Wild  horses  could  not 
have  dragged  a  word  from  his  lipi  as  td  what  rilled  his 
mind  at  that  period.  When  at  last  Mrs.  Morey  said, 
"Mabel  writes  that  she  is  coming  home  in  a  few  days," 
he  bit  his  lips  to  still  the  exclamation  that  rose  to  them. 

Mabel  did  not  return  alone.  She  brought  with  her 
a  cousin,  Miss  Mattie  Burbank,  daughter  of  her  father's 
sister,  whom  she  had  been  visiting.  Mattie  was  a  rather 
handsome  girl,  a  year  or  two  older  than  Mabel.  When 
Allan  found  the  lost  child  at  her  home  Miss  Mattie 
was  with  her,  and  he  was  presented.  His  manners 
were  so  stiff  on  that  occasion  that  the  cousin  had  a 
distinctly  unpleasant  impression  of  him.  He  merely 
bowed  to  both  girls,  made  some  commonplace  remark 
and  vanished  toward  his  room.  For  once  Mabel's 
mnf-froid  deserted  her. 


36  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  What  a  bear ! "  cried  Mattie,  when  she  heard  hi* 
door  close  behind  him.  "  And  he's  your  lodger,  is  he  ?  " 

"  He's  not  always  like  that,"  replied  Mabel.  "  Some' 
thing  must  have  troubled  him.  He  is  devotedly  at- 
tached to  business." 

Mattie  made  a  gesture  of  repugnance. 

"  I  should  hate  to  have  him  devotedly  attached  to 
mef"  she  said.  "  Think  of  marrying  a  man  like  that  I 
Ughl" 

"  You  are  not  likely  to  have  that  unpleasant  expe- 
rience ! "  was  the  retort.  "  He  never  pays  the  least 
attention  to  ladies." 

Miss  Burbank  from  Cleveland  tossad  her  head 

"  I  could  make  him  crazy  in  a  week  if  I  liked.  I've 
a  great  notion  to  do  it,  too,  just  for  fun." 

"  Well,  you  have  a  good  opinion  of  yourself  I n  was 
the  sharp  reply.  "  I  think  you'd  find  Mr.  Fawcett 
rather  different  from  the  empty-headed  young  fellows 
you  have  been  practising  on.  The  best  thing  you  can 
do  is  to  let  him  alone.  We  walk  on  tiptoe  when  he  is 
around — mamma  and  I — for  he  is  a  good  lodger  and 
we  can't  afford  to  risk  losing  him." 

Allan  did  not  come  down  that  night.  He  reclined  in 
a  great  chair,  with  his  teeth  set  firmly  together,  think- 
ing what  a  fool  a  slip  of  a  girl  could  make  of  a  man  who 
ought  to  have  gained  sense  in  his  contact  with  the 
world.  He  would  see  to  it  that  the  ideas  which  had 
£ prung  up  in  his  head  like  a  crop  of  mushrooms  were 
extirpated,  root  and  branch.  A  good  notion  would  be 
to  devote  most  of  his  conversation  at  the  table  to  the 
new-comer,  while  she  remained.  This  notion  he  put 
into  practice  the  very  next  morning. 

It  is  hard  to  tell  which  of  the  three  women  was  the 
most  surprised  at  the  new  turn  of  affairs.  Not  only 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  37 

fcras  Fawcett  more  talkative  than  they  had  ever  known 
him,  but  he  seemed  hardly  aware  of  the  fact  that  any 
other  person  than  Miss  Mattie  was  in  the  room. 
Delighted  at  what  she  considered  her  marvellous 
success  as  a  charmer,  the  young  lady  from  Cleveland 
encouraged  him  to  the  utmost,  with  the  result  that  he 
was  fully  fifteen  minutes  late  at  his  office  that  morning. 

Though  much  disturbed,  Mrs.  Morey  did  not  know 
how  to  say  anything  to  her  niece  without  making 
matters  still  worse.  She  had  a  long  talk  with  Mabel, 
later  in  the  day,  at  which  she  learned  Mattie's  threat. 
The  situation  was  very  complicated.  Mrs.  Morey  said, 
however,  that  if  Mattie  persisted  in  her  course  she 
would  be  compelled  to  speak  to  her,  as  Mr.  Fawcett 
was  too  peculiar  a  man  to  allow  any  one  to  go  too  far 
with  him. 

For  several  days  the  Morey  household  was  kept  in  a 
state  of  suppressed  excitement.  Miss  Mattie  was  too 
flushed  with  her  victory  to  allow  it  to  be  crushed  too 
soon.  Fawcett  really  became  interested  in  her,  and 
never  dreaming  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  plot,  gave 
her  the  opportunities  she  wanted.  He  was  glad  to  find 
anything  that  relieved  his  mind  of  its  tremendous  strain. 

Mattie  was  a  very  bright  girl,  of  a  type  whose  ac- 
quaintance he  now  made  for  the  first  time.  He  felf 
perfectly  at  ease  with  her.  He  could  not  tell  whose 
proposition  it  was  that  sent  them  out  to  walk  together 
on  the  seventh  evening  she  appeared  at  the  house,  but 
that  is  what  they  were  doing.  And  it  was  not  a  walk 
Kke  those  he  had  taken  with  Mabel,  either.  There  was 
no  pretence  of  errands  to  do,  or  calls  to  make,  on  the 
part  of  the  lady  in  the  case.  It  was  a  stroll  for  the 
ordinary  purpose  of  a  stroll,  to  enjoy  the  evening  to» 
gether,  and  to  talk  where  there  were  no  listeners, 


jg  YOUNG  FA  WCETT^S  MAMEL. 

Mattie  had  already  discovered  that  Fawcett  was  n&fc 
as  uninteresting  as  she  had  supposed.  She  found  him, 
on  the  contrary,  very  entertaining,  and  had  she  searched 
her  brain  she  would  have  seen  that  her  original  plan  of 
teaching  him  to  care  for  her  merely  to  laugh  at  him 
afterwards  had  entirely  disappeared. 

Mrs.  Morey  went  to  Mabel's  room  that  night,  and 
found  the  girl  in  bed,  though  the  strollers  had  not  yet 
returned.  Surprised  at  this  discovery  she  came  to  the 
bedside  and  kissed  her  daughter,  and  was  startled  at 
the  burning  skin  with  which  her  lips  came  in  con- 
tact. 

"You  are  ill,  Mabel!"  she  exclaimed.  "Why  did 
you  not  tell  me  ?  I  will  send  at  once  for  a  doctor." 

Mabel  clasped  her  mother's  hand  with  a  tenacious 
grip. 

"  No,  no !  I  am  well  enough.  Don't  send  for  any 
one." 

"  But  you  have  a  fever.  You  need  medicine.  As 
soon  as  Mattie  returns  I  will  leave  her  with  you  and 
go  to  the  druggist's,  at  least  for  some  nitre." 

Mabel  raised  herself  on  her  pillow  and  her  features 
were  distorted. 

"  I'll  never  speak  to  that  girl  again !  "  she  said,  with 
trembling  lips.  "  I  want  you  to  tell  her  to-night  that 
she  cannot  stay  here.  I  will  not  have  her  in  my  room 
nor  eat  at  the  same  table  with  her  I  " 

A  look  of  comprehension  filled  the  eyes  of  the 
mother.  It  was  Mr.  Fawcett  who  had  made  all  this 
irouble. 

"  I  understand,**  she  replied.  *  It  is  very  disagree- 
able, I  know.  But  you  must  not  let  her  see  that  you 
mind  it,  and  above  all  keep  it  from  him.  My  poor 
child,  I  did  not  imagine  you  were  taking  it  so  to  heart. 


Y&UNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  39 

In  a  few  days  she  will  be  gone  and  that  will  end  it 
There  is  nothing  to  be  jealous  of  in  his  sentiments  to- 
ward Mattie,  I  am  certain.  And  I  thought,"  she  added, 
smiling  a  little,  "  that  you  could  never  learn  to  lik* 
him." 

The  girl  shivered  frorv  crown  to  toe. 

"  Like  him,  mamma  !  Oh,  I  love  him  I  love  him  as 
I  never  thought  I  could  love  any  man  !  I  was  perfectly 
miserable  all  the  five  weeks  I  was  away,  and  then  to 
return  and  find  every  word,  every  look  given  to  her — 
it  is  killing  me !  I  shall  keep  my  room  till  she  goes. 
Tell  her  I  am  very  sick, — that  I  have  a  contagious 
disease — anything  you  like.  She  must  not  come  here, 
even  to  bid  me  good-bye  ! " 

Mrs.  Morey  listened  with  the  utmost  astonishment. 
How  had  this  girl,  who  always  told  her  everything,  kept 
so  much  back  ? 

"  You  love  him,  Mabel  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  When 
did  you  learn  that?  And  why  did  you  not  let  me 
know  it  sooner  ? " 

The  girl  sank  back  upon  the  bed,  burying  her  hot 
head  in  the  comparatively  cool  pillows. 

"  I  don't  know  when  it  began,  mamma,"  she  moaned. 
"  I  didn't  realize  it  at  all  until  I  was  away  from  him. 
You  don't  think  she  can  take  him  from  me,  do  you  ? 
I  could  not  live  if  he  ever  became  the  husband  of 
another  I " 

The  widow  soothed  her  daughter  as  best  she  could, 
smoothing  her  hair  back  from  her  forehead  and  mur- 
muring soft  assurances  in  her  ear. 

"  Have  no  fear,  my  darling,"  she  said.  "  He  was 
as  unhappy  as  you,  after  you  went  away.  He  hardly 
spoke  at  all,  and  every  evening  he  came  home  late.  1 
could  read  his  mind,  though  he  was  too  proud  to  say 


40  VOVNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

anything.     Don't  worry.     Mattie  will  go  in  a  few  days 
and  we  will  not  invite  her  again." 

When  Mabel  did  not  come  to  table  in  the  morning, 
and  the  announcement  was  made  that  she  was  not  well, 
Mr.  Fawcett  looked  troubled.  But  Miss  Burbank  en- 
gaged him  in  conversation  and  succeeded  in  holding 
his  attention.  At  night  he  came  home  early,  and  his 
first  inquiry  was  for  the  sick  girl.  When  he  heard  she 
was  no  worse  he  looked  relieved,  and  presently,  as 
Mattie  came  to  the  door  with  her  hat  on,  he  took 
another  stroll  with  that  fascinating  young  lady. 

"  I  hope  the  fact  that  you  have  taken  one  or  two 
walks  with  me  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  illness  of  my 
cousin,"  said  Miss  Burbank,  when  they  had  gone  half 
a  mile  out  on  the  country  road. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  exclaimed  her  companion, 
stopping  short. 

"  I  didn't  know  that  there  was  an  engagement,  or 
understanding,  or  anything  of  the  kind,"  continued 
Mattie,  with  inward  spite,  "  or  I  would  have  told  you 
at  once  that  I  could  not  accompany  you." 

Fawcett  was  very  much  troubled  at  her  words. 

"  There  is  nothing  between  Miss  Mabel  and  me,"  he 
said,  "  and  there  cannot  be.  What  gave  you  an  im- 
pression to  the  contrary  ?  " 

She  looked  on  the  ground,  and  poked  a  little  heap 
ef  dust  together  with  the  point  of  her  parasol. 

"  You  are  asking  me  questions  that  I  have  no  right 
to  answer,"  she  said. 

"  Excuse  me."     He  was  very  sober  now.      "  You 
said,  apparently  in  a  serious  way,  that  Miss  Morey's 
illness  might  have  reference  to  our  walks.     You  owe 
it  to  me  to  retract  that  or  explain  it." 
..  Th«re  was  a  quizzical  smile  on  her  face. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  41 

"Then,  as  the  easiest  thing,  I  will  retract  it,"  she 
replied. 

He  searched  her  countenance  narrowly. 

"  You  admit,  do  you,"  he  asked,  "  that  you  had  no 
foundation  for  your  insinuation  ? " 

"  Oh,  you  want  too  much  now,"  she  answered,  peev- 
ishly. 

He  drew  himself  up  a  little,  and  she  conceived  a  new 
opinion  of  his  firmness. 

"  Then  I  shall  be  obliged  to  ask  these  questions  of 
Miss  Morey,"  said  he.  "  If  there  is  anything  in  what 
you  have  intimated  I  shall  leave  the  house  immedi- 
ately." 

She  smiled  still,  and  said  he  would  be  a  foolish  man 
if  he  made  so  much  of  a  light  remark,  but  added  that 
of  course  he  was  at  liberty  to  do  as  he  liked.  Then, 
as  he  stood  there,  she  inquired  if  he  intended  to  remain 
in  that  position  the  rest  of  the  night,  or  would  prefer  to 
resume  his  walk.  Her  railleries  were  lost  on  him  now, 
however.  He  answered  soberly  that  he  would  return 
to  Mrs.  Morey's,  if  she  was  willing,  and  they  bent  their 
steps  thither. 

"  I  am  going  home  in  a  day  or  two,"  said  Mattie,  as 
th«y  neared  the  door.  "  If  you  still  think  it  advisable 
to  do  such  a  nonsensical  thing  as  you  mentioned  a  few 
minutes  ago,  I  wish  you  would  kindly  postpone  it  till 
after  my  departure." 

Fawcett  said,  with  some  hesitation,  that  he  would  do 
this.  He  went  to  his  chamber  and  lay  awake  far  into 
the  night.  He  could  not  remember  when  anything  had 
annoyed  him  so,  not  even  on  that  occasion  when  hay 
advanced  two  dollars  unexpectedly  and  he  had  three 
hundred  tons  to  deliver  at  the  old  rate. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ALLAN  BECOMES  A  BROTHER. 

FAWCETT  was  so  reserved  at  the  table  the  next 
morning,  that  Mrs.  Morey  knew  his  "  flirtation,"  if  such 
a  name  could  be  given  to  it,  with  Miss  Mattie,  was  at 
an  end.  Miss  Burbank,  who  had  never  talked  with  her 
aunt  in  relation  to  the  young  man,  continued  to  main- 
tain her  silence  in  that  respect.  She  was  somewhat 
piqued  over  the  result  of  her  efforts,  and  a  little  inclined 
to  wish  she  had  let  him  entirely  alone.  She  had  no  wish 
to  do  anything  disagreeable  to  Mabel,  whom  she  liked 
very  well,  but  the  temptation  to  see  what  she  could 
make  out  of  Fawcett  had  proved  too  strong  for  her. 
Now  she  decided  to  "make  up  "  with  her  cousin  before 
going  away,  as  it  was  quite  ridiculous  that  they  should 
have  a  serious  falling  out  over  a  matter  of  this  conse- 
quence. She  asked  kindly  about  Mabel's  health,  not 
intimating  that  she  had  the  least  idea  what  caused  her 
illness,  and  offered  to  do  anything  in  her  power  to  aid 
her  recovery.  Mrs.  Morey  responded  that  the  child  was 
nervous  and  only  wanted  quiet  for  a  short  time. 

When  Mabel  learned  that  there  had  been  something 
very  like  a  rupture  between  the  object  of  her  new  affec- 
tions and  her  cousin  she  rallied  rapidly.  She  did  not 
want  Allan  to  go  too  long  without  her  at  the  table,  and 
she  resolved  to  conceal  the  feeling  she  had  against  her 
cousin  and  pretend  to  be  the  same  as  usual  while  she 
remained.  Under  her  mother's  tutelage  she  realized 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  43 

the  necessity  of  hiding  her  jealousy  from  both  the  other 
persons  interested,  and  on  the  second  day  she  came 
downstairs  and  answered  in  the  ordinary  way  the 
inquiries  that  Mattie  made  as  to  the  state  in  which  she 
found  herself. 

"  Such  attacks  are  not  uncommon  with  me,"  she 
said,  with  direct  mendacity.  "I  am  liable  to  have 
them  at  any  time.  They  soon  pass  off,  however,  and  I 
feel  as  well  as  ever  when  they  are  gone." 

The  breakfast-table  did  not  rally  from  the  blow  it 
had  received,  for  a  long  time.  Fawcett  meant  to  find 
out  whether  there  was  anything  in  the  hint  that  Miss 
Burbank  had  let  fall  before  he  became  very  communi- 
cative with  the  family.  Mattie  prolonged  her  stay  for 
another  month,  though  it  cannot  be  said  that  she 
enjoyed  it,  and  the  night  before  she  was  to  leave  she 
intercepted  Mr.  Fawcett  as  he  came  up  the  walk. 

"  I  am  going  back  to  Cleveland  to-morrow,"  she  said, 
in  a  low  tone. 

"Ah!" 

It  was  his  only  reply,  and  she  could  not  tell  what  it 
meant. 

"  I  fear  you  are  not  sorry,"  she  went  on,  after  a  mo- 
mentary pause.  *  We  were  getting  to  be  good  friends, 
when  an  unlucky  word  set  you  against  me.  Having 
done  penance  for  my  transgression,  I  want  to  know  if  I 
may  hope  some  day  to  receive  your  pardon." 

The  words  sounded  mocking,  but  the  tone  was  sin- 
cere, and  Fawcett  felt  that  she  merited  a  serious  reply. 

"  Perhaps  it  Is  I  who  should  ask  forgiveness,"  said 
he.  "  I  was,  I  confess,  much  annoyed  at  the  remark 
you  made,  and  it  takes  me  a  long  time  to  recover  from 
anything  like  that.  I  do  not  think,  now,  that  you 
meant  much  by  it,  bat  at  the  moment  it  struck  me  very 


44  YOUNG  fA  WCEST'S  MABEL. 

disagreeably.  It  must  be  plain  to  you,  Miss  Burbank, 
that  I  am  not  in  any  sense  a  '  ladies'  man.'  I  like  the 
society  of  bright  women,  but  I  do  not  think  it  right  to 
obtain  it  under  false  pretences,  and  as  a  consequence  I 
have  had  very  little  of  it.  If  it  were  true  that  Miss 
Mabel  cared  enough  about  me  to  mind  my  walking  or 
talking  with  you — which  I  am  convinced  she  does  not 
— my  duty  would  be  very  plain.  I  should  get  a  room 
elsewhere." 

Miss  Burbank  shook  her  head  sagely. 

"  You  are  wiser  than  most  of  your  generation,"  she 
answered.  "  Well,  as  I  am  going  away,  I  am  glad  we 
are  still  friends,  for  I  like  you  too  well  to  want  to  think 
of  you  as  an  enemy.  Should  you  ever  come  to  Cleve- 
land I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  call,  and  to  introduce 
you  to  my  father  and  mother.  When  I  tell  them  of 
your  anti-matrimonial  intentions  they  will  be  all  the 
more  willing  to  welcome  you,  I  am  sure.  As  for  Aunt 
Maria  and  my  dear  cousin  here,  I  hope  with  all  my 
heart  that  nothing  will  cause  them  to  lose  a  friend  that 
I  know  they  both  appreciate  at  his  true  worth." 

He  ignored  the  compliment  and  thanked  her  for  her 
invitation,  saying  it  was  not  impossible  it  might  some 
day  be  in  his  power  to  accept  it.  A  day  or  two  after 
her  departure  he  let  fall  a  few  words  to  Mrs.  Morey,  to 
strengthen  his  position,  thinking  it  better  to  talk  to  her 
than  to  her  daughter. 

"  It  may  seem  almost  like  egotism  for  me  to  mention 
it  so  often,"  said  he,  "  but  you  must  have  known  long 
ago  my  intention  to  remain  single  until  my  fortune  is 
fully  made.  I  speak  of  this  on  account  of  some  silly 
insinuations  that  have  been  made  because  of  my 
passing  through  the  street  several  times  with  Miss 
Mabel" 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  4$ 

The  widow  looked  vaguely  at  him,  as  if  ske  could 
not  understand  exactly. 

"  It  was  hinted,  in  a  joking,  bantering  way,"  he 
explained,  "  that  I  was  paying  addresses  to  her." 

Mrs.  Morey  threw  up  her  hands  and  clasped  them 
together. 

"  With  such  a  child  !    How  ridiculous ! " 

"  It  is  indeed,"  he  replied,  "  but  it  shows  you  what 
people  with  nothing  else  to  do  may  think.  Now,  it 
would  not  be  fair,  either  for  me  or  her,  to  have  such  an 
idea  get  abroad.  I  like  your  house,  and  both  of  you 
have  been  very  kind  to  me,  but  if  I  imagined " 

The  widow  laid  down  the  sewing  that  she  had  in 
hand,  and  the  moisture  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  should  say  so !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  emphasis. 
"  I  cannot  believe  any  one  has  said  such  a  thing  except 
to  annoy.  I  hope  it  will  be  many  years  before  my  Ma- 
bel is  taken  from  me.  She  is  all  I  have,  Mr.  Fawcett, 
and  I  am  positive  her  mind  has  never  yet  turned 
toward  such  matters.  I  am  more  than  pleased  to  hear 
your  views  so  clearly  expressed.  I  have  the  utmost 
confidence  in  you ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  better  for  a 
young  girl  than  to  have  a  gentleman  acquaintance  for 
whom  she  can  have  sentiments  of  friendship,  unmixed 
with  anything  more  tender,  it  has  been  especially 
gratifying  to  me  that  a  happy  chance  threw  you  in 
our  way." 

He  could  not  help  being  flattered  by  her  language, 
but  desiring  to  settle  this  matter  once  and  forever,  he 
asked  her  to  impress  upon  Miss  Mabel's  mind  his  irre- 
vocable purpose  of  postponing  marriage  until  a  very 
late  period  in  his  life.  This  she  promised  to  do;  and 
that  matter  disposed  of,  he  was  gracious  enough  to 
iepea*  that  he  liked  his  home  very  much,  and  should  bo 


46  YOUNG  FA  WATT'S  it  ABEL. 

»ony  to  have  anything  interfere  with  it*  retention.  And 
Mrs.  Morey  said  more  kind  things  expressive  of  the 
regard  in  which  she  held  him,  and  her  desire  to  do  all 
in  her  power  to  add  to  the  comfort  of  his  condition. 

After  this  ceremonious  explanation  Fawcett  seemed 
to  regain  his  old  footing  with  the  daughter.  He  de* 
cided  that  he  would  ignore  the  baseless  glances  and 
half-jesting  words  which  his  appearance  on  the  street 
with  her  were  likely  to  call  forth,  trusting  that  they 
would  soon  be  exhausted.  In  this  latter  opinion  he 
proved  to  be  correct.  People  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  nothing  in  the  fact  that  Mabel  Morey 
was  occasionally  seen  in  company  with  the  young  man 
who  was  a  part  of  her  mother's  household.  Had  he 
taken  her  to  church,  or  to  places  of  amusement,  or  to 
drive,  the  gossips  would  have  been  sure  to  notice  it. 
But  to  walk  up  or  down  from  the  dwelling,  or  store, 
even  the  best  of  them  could  make  little  of  that,  and 
soon  they  gave  up  mentioning  it. 

The  sudden  blooming  of  the  flower  of  love  in  her 
daughter's  heart  disconcerted  Mrs.  Morey.  She  knew 
that  it  would  be  hard  for  a  girl  having  such  sentiments 
to  keep  them  wholly  concealed  from  the  object  of  her 
affection.  One  instance  in  point  had  already  occurred, 
and  had  proved  how  dangerous  it  might  become.  It 
would  not  have  taken  much  to  upset  the  entire  kettle 
of  fish  on  that  occasion.  The  widow  used  to  talk  to 
her  daughter  in  her  wisest  strain  upon  the  necessity  of 
keeping  the  state  of  her  feelings  wholly  locked  in  her 
own  bosom. 

"  We  women  never  can  make  the  least  advance  in 
such  a  matter  as  love,"  she  said,  "  without  the  greatest 
danger.  Even  when  the  man  is  convinced,  by  many 
signs,  that  he  is  certaia  to  be  accepted  when  he  makes 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  47 

his  proposition,  he  expects  a  show  of  unwillingness,  a 
pretence  of  coyness,  a  hesitation  to  give  him  the  word 
he  has  asked.  There  are  foolish  girls  who  confess 
their  sentiments  to  the  adored  one,  before  he  has  act- 
ually asked  them,  but  such  conduct  will  surely  be 
regretted  in  the  end.  It  is  not  until  the  marriage  has 
actually  taken  place  that  we  are  free  to  give  way  to 
our  feelings,  and  even  then  a  feint  of  unwillingness  to 
submit  to  caresses  is  the  surest  way  to  retain  a  hus- 
band's regard." 

Mabel  listened  with  due  attention,  as  a  student  hears 
a  professor  who  is  adept  at  the  science  he  desires  to 
acquire. 

"  But,  mamma,  you  have  no  idea  how  hard  it  is  for 
me  to  treat  Allan — I  mean  Mr.  Fawcett — as  distantly 
as  you  advise.  And  when  I  think  of  the  long  years 
you  believe  necessary,  it  seems  as  if  it  was  simply  impos- 
sible to  wait." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  come  around  all  right  in  less  time," 
said  her  mother,  encouragingly.  "  I  think  I  am  learning 
to  understand  him.  He  cares  so  much  for  business,  for 
the  money  there  is  to  be  made  in  it,  that  he  dreads 
above  all  things  assuming  extra  expense.  He  is  not 
oblivious  to  feminine  charms,  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
photographs  of  handsome  women  of  the  stage  that  he 
frequently  brings  home  to  adorn  his  dressing-case. 
Now,  I  will  get  him  to  discussing  the  cost  of  housekeep- 
ing, and  surprise  him  by  some  of  the  figures  I  can 
show.  I  will  do  this  in  such  a  way  that  he  will  never 
suspect  I  kave  a  motive,  and  if  I  once  get  his  alarm 
over  expenses  out  of  his  head,  the  rest  will  come  easily 
enough." 

The  girl  had  been  growing  very  sober  during  the  last 
minute. 


48  YOUNG  FAWCE-rT'S  MABEL. 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  him  bring  heme  those  hateful  pic- 
tures," she  pouted.  "  Some  of  those  girls  are  very  likely 
no  better  than  they  should  be.  If  I  ever  do  marry  him, 
I  won't  allow  such  things  in  his  room !  How  can  I  tell 
that  he  hasn't  met  some  of  them,  personally,  during  the 
trips  he  makes  to  the  city  ? " 

Mrs.  Morey  bowed  profoundly. 

"Oh,  I  could  almost  guarantee  his  morals,"  she 
replied.  "  He  cares  too  much  for  money  to  associate 
with  women  who  are  fast.  The  pictures  simply  prove 
that  he  has  an  eye  for  beauty,  and  that  being  the  case 
I  am  glad  to  see  them.  Mr.  Fawcett  will  be  all  right 
when  the  time  comes,  my  dear.  He  cares  much  more 
for  you  than  he  has  any  intention  of  admitting.  Leave 
him  to  me.  By  and  by  you  must  take  another  week 
away,  and  I  will  watch  to  see  how  he  likes  to  have  you 
gone.  The  last  time  he  hardly  ate  his  breakfasts  at  all." 

Mabel  rubbed  her  hands  together  nervously. 

« I  will  never  go  to  Uncle  Zeba's,"  she  said.  "  Mattie 
treated  me  shamefully,  and  I  don't  want  to  see  her 
again," 

"  You  can  go  to  plenty  of  other  places,"  smiled  her 
mother.  "  Aunt  Hattie  has  written  for  you  often.  She 
has  a  fine  house  at  Boston,  and  you  ought  to  have  a 
splendid  time  there." 

The  girl  shook  her  head  slowly. 

"  I  can't  have  a  good  time  anywhere  away  from  him," 
she  replied.  "  Every  day  will  seem  like  three.  Then 
there  is  Cousin  Frank,  whom  I  never  could  bear.  H« 
was  always  trying  to  kiss  me  the  last  time  I  was  there, 
though  I  was  only  twelve  years  old,  and  I  don't  sup- 
pose he's  improved  any. " 

Mrs.  Morey  had  to  laugh,  the  girl  looked  *o  appre- 
hensive. 


Y0tf#0  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  49 

"  Frank  is  a  man  now,  and  has  probably  got  through 
with  his  tricks,"  she  said.  "  He  must  be  twenty-three 
or  twenty-four.  The  best  thing  is  for  you  to  go  there, 
until  I  can  watch  the  effect  on  Mr.  Fawcett.  I'll 
send  for  you  as  soon  as  it  is  good  policy  to  do  so.  All 
we  need  now  is  to  keep  his  thoughts  in  one  direc- 
tion." 

So  Mabel  went  away  and  Allan  Fawcett  was  plunged 
into  new  melancholy.  As  there  was  no  one  he  could 
blame  for  his  condition  of  mind  he  bore  it  in  silence. 
He  even  tried  to  appear  as  bright  as  ever,  when  at  his 
lodgings,  fearing  that  Mrs.  Morey  would  notice  his 
despondency  and  guess  its  true  reason.  He  had  no 
idea  that  he  was  in  love,  indeed  he  would  have  scouted 
the  notion.  He  began  to  admit  that  it  was  pleasanter 
at  the  house  when  Mabel  was  there,  and  that  she  was 
a  very  nice  girl.  If  he  had  had  a  sister  he  might  have 
felt  toward  her,  he  supposed,  as  he  did  toward  Mabel, 
Two  people  did  not  make  a  large  enough  family.  It  re- 
quired three  to  do  that.  Then  the  girl  played  a  good 
deal  on  the  piano,  and  sometimes  sang.  As  her  mother 
did  not  play,  the  piano  was  closed  in  her  absence. 
It  must  be  the  music  he  missed.  Yes,  he  thought  it 
mnst  certainly  be  the  music. 

He  was  betrayed,  at  the  end  of  a  week,  into  asking 
when  Mabel  was  going  to  return.  This  was  progress, 
and  Mrs.  Morey's  heart  gave  a  quick  throb  as  she 
heard  his  question. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,"  she  said.  "  They  are  no 
doubt  doing  all  they  can  to  keep  her.  Her  aunt  is  quite 
rich  and  they  think  a  great  deal  of  Mabel.  If  I  con- 
sulted my  own  selfishness  I  should  send  for  her  at 
once.  The  house  seems  lonely  without  her,  during  the 
long  days  when  you  are  away." 
4 


So        YOUNG  FA  WCRTTS  MABEL. 

He  thought  the  house  seemed  very  lonely  during  the 
long  evenings  when  he  was  not  away,  but  he  had  no 
intention  of  saying  so.  After  that  Mrs.  Morey  got  into 
the  habit  of  telling  him  when  letters  came ;  and  once, 
when  he  seemed  more  interested  than  usual,  she  read 
him  an  extract  in  which  Mabel  spoke  of  being  anxious 
for  the  time  when  she  would  see  her  mother  and  Mr. 
Fawcett,  as  she  used.  It  was  very  pleasant  in  Boston, 
but  she  should  not  stay  much  longer.  The  lodger 
smiled  unconsciously,  and  when  he  walked  to  his 
office  he  was  humming  a  tune  that  he  had  heard  her 
play. 

At  last  Mabel  returned,  and  there  being  no  Mattie 
there  to  interfere  with  him,  he  expressed  his  satisfac- 
tion at  seeing  her,  and  listened  intently  while  she  re- 
lated the  manner  in  which  she  had  occupied  her  three 
weeks  of  absence.  She  showed  him  photographs  of 
her  aunt,  and  of  her  Cousin  Frank,  the  latter  a  tall, 
well-made  young  gentleman,  with  an  aggressive  face 
that  most  women  would  call  handsome. 

"How  old  is  he?"  asked  Allen,  with  a  darkened 
countenance. 

"  Twenty-four,  I  believe." 

"What  is  his  business?" 

"  Oh,  he  does  nothing  but  look  after  his  property. 
The  Seldens  are  too  rich  to  care  for  work." 

Fawcett  showed   his  dislike. 

"  A  young  man  has  no  right  to  be  a  loafer  if  he  is  as 
rich  as  Waldorf  Astor,"  he  said,  snappishly. 

The  girl  did  not  make  any  reply  and,  still  holding 
the  picture  in  his  hand,  Allan  ventured  another  ques- 
tion. 

44  You  are  very  fond  of  him,  I  suppose  ?  w 

She  shook  her  head. 


YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  5 1 

•  No.  I  took  a  dislike  to  him  when  I  was  a  child, 
on  account  of  the  things  he  used  to  do." 

"  What  kind  of  things  ? " 

She  blushed  as  she  looked  up  at  him. 

"  Oh,  he  was  always  running  after  me,  and  trying  to 
make  me  kiss  him,  and " 

There  was  a  perfect  thunder-cloud  now  on  the  face 
of  the  young  merchant. 

"  Has  he  got  over  that  habit  ?  "  he  asked  frigidly. 

She  looked  as  if  she  had  rather  not  answer,  but,  as 
he  waited,  she  replied,  with  uneasiness,  that  she  could 
not  say  he  had,  entirely. 

"  And,  being  your  cousin,  I  suppose  you  think  it  all 
right  ? " 

Bitter  as  ^all  and  wormwood  was  the  tone  in  which 
he  uttered  those  words.  She  knew  he  cared  for  her,  or 
the  simple  statement  she  had  made  could  not  affect 
him  so  deeply. 

"  You  are  not  fair,  Mr.  Fawcett,"  she  said,  soberly. 
11  You  asked  me  if  I  liked  him.  I  not  only  told  you  no, 
but  I  gave  my  reason.  I  was  glad  to  get  away  from 
Boston,  on  his  account,  and  I  do  not  mean  to  go  there 
again." 

He  choked  down  the  passionate  thoughts  that  filled 
his  brain,  upon  hearing  this  straightforward  reply. 
Why  did  he  hate  the  original  of  that  photograph,  as 
men  hate  one  who  has  done  them  a  vital  injury?  He 
had  never  seen  Frank  Selden.  It  was  not  probable 
they  ever  would  meet.  What  was  Selden,  or  this 
fair  cousin  of  his,  to  him  ?  He  was  interested  in  but- 
ter, and  eggs,  and  cheese,  and  hay,  and  potatoes. 
Business  was  prospering.  He  had  laid  up  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  that  year,  and  new  patrons  were  coming 
to  him  daily.  He  looked  again  at  Mabel,  who  sat  very 


52  YO  UNO  FA  WCE  TT  'S  MABEL. 

still,  like  a  child  who  has  been  rebuked  by  her  elders 
and  hesitates  to  speak  until  spoken  to. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  said  what  I  did,"  he  remarked, 
more  gently.  "  I  am  sure  I  have  no  right  to  criticise 
you.  But  your  mother  will  tell  you  that  a  young  girl 
cannot  be  too  careful  in  her  conduct  toward  men,  nor 
demand  too  much  respect  in  their  actions  toward  her. 
If  this  Selden  " — he  spoke  the  word  as  if  it  were  pro- 
nounced Snake — "  has  attempted  any  liberties  with 
you  of  the  kind  you  mentioned,  his  being  your  cousin 
does  not  excuse  him." 

Mabel  acquiesced  without  speaking,  like  one  who  en- 
tirely agrees. 

"It  is  natural,"  Fawcett  went  on,  after  a  pause, 
"  that  I  should  take  an  interest  in  you,  living  under  the 
same  roof  and  being  almost  a  part  of  your  family. 
There  are  some  things  which  men  know  that  young 
girls  are  slow  to  perceive.  I  should  be  sorry  to  think 
I  had  neglected  any  advice  that  I  ought  to  give 
you,  for  it  seems  to  me  —  somehow  —  that  I  stand 
toward  you,  in  a  certain  respect,  in  the  relation  of  a 
brother." 

The  girl  rose  and  put  her  hands  in  his,  before  he  was 
aware  what  she  was  about  to  do. 

"  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,"  she  said,  the  tears 
in  her  eyes.  "  Whenever  you  have  anything  to  say  to 
me  do  not  hesitate.  I  shall  always  be  ready  to  listen 
and  to  profit  by  your  instruction." 

She  walked  slowly  out  of  the  room,  and  seeking  her 
mother  related  the  conversation  word  for  word,  as  well 
as  she  could  recall  it. 

"You  did  exactly  right,  my  child,"  said  the  wide*. 
**  You  could  not  have  been  more  discreet." 

Mabel  had  a  wistful  look  in  her  gray  eye* 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  53 

11  I*  seems  so  contemptible,"  she  said, "  to  act  as  if  I 
was  trying  to  snare  him,  when  I  love  him  so." 

u  You  will  have  all  your  life  to  prove  that  to  him," 
was  the  mother's  reply,  as  she  drew  the  shrinking  gid 
to  her  side  and  kissed  her. 


CHAPTER  V. 
"  THAT  WOULDN'T  BE  NICE."  \ 

BEING  now  installed,  by  his  own  motion,  in  the  posi- 
tion of  "  brother  "  to  Miss  Morey,  Allan  Fawcett  found 
his  path  easier.  He  deceived  himself  into  the  belief 
that  this  justified  him  in  being  in  her  company  a  great 
deal  more  than  ever,  and  in  talking  with  her  on  terms 
of  intimacy  of  which  he  had  never  before  dreamed.  As 
no  one  else  appeared  to  dispute  with  him  the  title  he 
had  assumed,  and  as  both  Mrs.  Morey  and  her  daugh- 
ter  treated  him  kindly,  he  grew  quite  content  with  his 
surroundings.  A  suggestion  was  finally  made  that  he 
take  his  dinner  and  supper  at  the  house,  as  well  as  his 
breakfast,  and  he  accepted  gladly.  Those  meals  had 
never  seemed  what  they  should  be  since  his  taste  of  the 
superior  comforts  of  Mrs.  Morey's  table. 

Had  he  actually  been  her  son,  the  widow  could  not 
have  treated  him  with  more  cordiality.  Everything 
soon  came  to  be  looked  after  in  a  way  that  was  at  onc« 
novel  and  delightful  to  the  young  bachelor.  His 
laundry  arrangements  were  seen  to,  without  a  word 
from  him.  Buttons  that  had  previously  given  him  no 
end  of  trouble  were  found  sewn  tightly  in  their  places. 
Little  rents  were  deftly  mended.  Some  of  the  books 
that  he  was  most  careful  of  appeared  in  neat  paper 


54  YOUNG  PA  WC*TT>S  MABEL, 

covers.  The  vase  on  his  table  began  to  be  filled  with 
flowers,  culled  from  the  garden.  It  was  marvellous 
how  much  more  attractive  his  quarters  were  than  those 
he  had  exchanged  for  them  when  the  Moreys  moved  to 
Norwood. 

Fawcett's  temper  was  usually  good,  but  sometimes 
he  came  home  disturbed  by  the  vicissitudes  of  business. 
On  such  occasions  nothing  was  permitted  to  give  an 
additional  jar  to  his  feelings.  Unless  he  set  the  pace 
of  conversation,  only  the  most  necessary  things  were 
said  at  the  table,  and  if  he  chose  to  retire  to  his  cham- 
ber neither  of  the  ladies  urged  him  to  remain  below. 
It  was  long  afterwards  that  it  came  back  to  him — the 
ingenious  petting  to  which  he  was  subjected — but  at 
the  time  he  thought  nothing  about  it. 

There  are  more  men  nagged  to  death  by  women  who 
would  like  to  give  them  comfort  when  they  seem  dis« 
tressed  than  by  all  the  intentional  vixens  in  the  world. 
It  is  well  known  that  one  of  America's  chief  actors  had 
to  separate  from  his  second  wife  because  she  would  not 
let  him  retire  into  a  half-darkened  room  for  a  few  hours 
each  day,  where  he  could  regain  his  nervous  force  and 
strengthen  himself  for  the  labors  of  the  evening.  She 
would  come  to  the  door  and  beg  admittance,  saying 
that  she  hated  to  have  him  there  alone,  and  that  she 
was  sure  she  could  do  him  good  if  he  would  let  her  hold 
his  head  and  kiss  away  his  depression.  Though  lov- 
ing her  as  such  men  love  their  wives,  he  could  not  bear 
this  strain,  and  the  couple  parted  with  mutual  agony, 
all  because  the  woman  could  not  be  made  to  under- 
stand. 

Mrs.  Morey  committed  no  such  error,  nor  did  her 
daughter,  under  her  wise  instructions.  Fawcett  grew 
more  and  more  attached  to  his  boarding-house,  as  he 


VOUNS  FA  wcmrrs  if  AS  ML.  jg 

termed  it,  or  his  home,  as  they  wanted  him  to  feei 
it.  As  he  went  to  very  few  entertainments,  and  as 
his  office-work  was  usually  ended  at  six  o'clock, 
he  spent  most  of  his  evenings  in  the  house,  and  a 
great  deal  of  that  time  came  to  be  monopolized  by 
Mabel.  Mrs.  Morey  would  often  leave  them  for 
hours,  while  she  went  out  calling  or  on  errands  to  the 
stores. 

His  business  took  him  away  from  Norwood  quite 
frequently,  but  he  was  seldom  gone  more  than  two  or 
three  nights  at  a  time.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  he 
found,  on  his  return,  that  Mabel  was  his  only  hostess, 
her  mother  having  been  summoned  to  the  bedside  of 
her  sister,  Mrs.  Selden,  by  a  telegram.  In  speaking 
of  it  to  me,  years  afterward,  he  alluded  to  the  week 
that  Mrs.  Morey  remained  away  as  the  turning  one  in 
his  career.  Day  after  day  he  sat  at  the  table  with 
Mabel  as  his  companion,  their  isolation  being  broken 
only  by  the  entrance  of  Bridget  when  summoned  to 
clear  the  plates  or  to  bring  something  from  the  kitchen. 
Evening  after  evening  they  occupied  the  parlor  with  no 
interruption,  or  took  short  walks  toward  the  wood  that 
bordered  the  town  on  their  side  of  it.  And  when  the 
time  came  for  separation,  and  he  went  to  his  room,  he 
had  a  new  sense  of  responsibility  for  this  quiet  girl,  a 
feeling  that  she  was  under  his  sole  protection,  and  that 
if  harm  happened  to  her  he  would  be  to  blame. 

It  was  a  testing  week  for  them.  Loving  him  more 
strongly  than  ever,  Mabel  realized  the  absolute  necessity 
of  hiding  her  sentiments  until  he  should  have  fully 
demonstrated  his  own.  Impelled  a  hundred  times  to 
some  act  that  might  show  the  more  than  brotherly 
affection  that  was  growing  up  in  his  breast,  he  resisted 
as  often  as  he  felt  the  temptation.  The  very  presence 


56  TOVNG  FA  WCR  TTS  MABEL. 

of  opportunity  caused  by  her  mother's  absence  made  him 
more  guarded  than  ever  on  this  point.  He  had  a  sense 
of  honor  that  would  not  allow  him  to  take  advantage 
of  any  person  in  the  slightest  degree.  The  pressure  on 
his  feelings  made  him  glad  to  see  Mrs.  Morey's  face 
again,  as  a  guardsman  on  picket  who  hears  the  ap- 
proaching step  of  the  relieving  squad. 

But  the  week  had  done  its  work.  There  was  never 
afterwards  anything  distant  between  the  young  peo- 
ple. They  confided  a  hundred  things  to  each  other. 
He  had  called  her  "  Miss  Morey "  till  then,  but  she 
suddenly  became  "  Mabel "  to  him.  The  three  people 
in  that  house  had  become  welded  into  one  family  as 
they  never  had  been  until  that  week  of  absence  on  the 
part  of  the  mother. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  not  fared  as  well  with  Mabel 
as  when  I  am  at  home, "  smiled  Mrs.  Morey,  as  she 
took  her  seat  in  her  old  place  and  began  to  pour  the 
coffee.  "  A  housekeeper  is  made  by  experience,  and  a 
girl  of  eighteen  cannot  be  expected  to  take  the  place 
of  an  old  woman  like  me." 

If  the  meals  had  been  poorer,  Fawcett  had  not  no- 
ticed it.  As  a  matter  of  fact  they  had,  without  doubt. 
Mabel  knew  as  much  about  cooking  as  she  did  of 
scientific  chemistry.  Bridget  did  what  she  could,  but 
Mrs.  Morey's  oversight  was  lacking. 

"We  have  done  very  well,"  was  the  young  man's 
reply.  "  I  do  not  think  I  have  lost  an  ounce  in 
weight." 

The  widow  smiled  gratefully  upon  him,  and  then 
transferred  her  attention  to  her  daughter. 

"You  will  have  to  begin  to  learn  kitchen  work  in 
earnest,  my  girl,"  she  said,  "  before  you  are  much 
older.  Piano  and  singing  lessons  will  not  bake  the 


YOUNG  FA  WCMTT'S  MABEL.  57 

brea  1  nor  prepare  the  gravies  of  the  household  you 
may  some  day  have  to  oversee." 

"  I  shall  always  have  you  to  show  me,  mamma," 
said  the  girl,  with  a  blush,  "  and  there  will  never  be  aay 
household  for  me  except  yours." 

"  How  can  we  tell  that  I  shall  always  be  with  you  ?  " 
replied  the  mother.  "  Aunt  Hattie  came  very  near 
leaving  us  last  week,  with  that  sudden  turn  of  illness. 
What  would  you  do,  should  I  be  taken  away,  unless 
you  could  carry  on  the  housekeeping  ? " 

It  was  touching  to  see  the  distress  that  came  into 
the  young  girl's  face  at  this  suggestion.  Of  all  her 
virtues  love  for  her  mother  was  most  pre-eminent  and 
sincere. 

"  Don't  speak  in  that  way !  "  she  cried,  reprovingly. 
"  If  you  were  taken  from  me,  I  should  not  care  to  live 
any  longer." 

Mrs.  Morey  looked  as  if  she  would  have  kissed  the 
girl,  but  for  the  presence  of  a  third  person  in  the  room. 

"  Death  does  not  come  at  our  bidding,"  she  said 
gently.  "  Sometimes  we  are  obliged  to  live  long  after 
the  things  we  prize  most  are  gone  from  us.  You  must 
learn  to  be  a  famous  housekeeper,  so  that  if  anything 
does  happen  you  will  be  able  to  keep  your  home. 
There  are  so  few  things  that  a  girl  can  do  to  earn  a 
living.  With  the  house  and  the  furniture  you  could 
take  boarders  and  be  in  a  measure  independent" 
-  Mabel's  smile  returned. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  get  many  of  them,"  she 
said.  "  Would  you  still  live  here,  if  there  were  only 
me  to  see  to  you  ? "  she  asked  Fawcett,  with  a  half- 
earnest,  half-joking  expression. 

He  replied  in  the  affirmative  in  a  way  that  set 


j*  YOUNG  FA  \YCETT' S  MAfML, 

u  But,  I  don't  think  I  should  want  you  to  have  any 
more  boarders,"  he  added.  "  I  think  one  like  me 
would  keep  you  busy." 

A  day  or  two  later,  when  Mrs.  Morey  and  Fawcett 
were  together  and  Mabel  had  gone  out,  the  widow  re- 
verted to  this  conversation. 

"  My  sister's  illness  has  set  me  to  thinking  seriously," 
said  she,  in  a  sober  tone.  "  Mabel  has  relations  who 
would  doubtless  consider  it  their  duty  to  look  after  her 
if  anything  should  happen  to  me.  But,  though  they 
are  people  of  property  and  standing,  there  is  not  one 
of  them  who  is  exactly  what  I  would  choose  to  have 
the  oversight  of  the  formative  years  of  my  child.  The 
ones  most  natural  to  select  are  her  Uncle  Zeba  Burbank, 
father  of  her  Cousin  Mattie,  and  her  other  cousin, 
Frank  Selden,  whose  picture  I  think  you  have  seen. 
Both  are  considered  rich  men,  and  I  am  sure  would 
not  let  her  suffer,  but  wealth  is  not  the  only  consider- 
ation in  a  matter  of  this  kind." 

He  felt  two  distinct  blows  when  she  mentioned  the 
names  of  Mattie  Burbank  and  Frank  Selden.  If  these 
were  typical  of  all  the  girl's  relations,  Heaven  pity  her ! 
He  had  conceived  a  positive  dislike  for  Mattie  on  that 
evening  when  she  took  her  last  walk  with  him,  and  he 
felt  a  bitterness  toward  Selden  for  which  he  could  not 
account. 

"Frank  likes  Mabel  better  than  I  wish  he  did," 
continued  Mrs.  Morey,  slowly.  "  His  mother  has  in- 
timated several  times  that  they  would  make  a  good 
match,  but  I  hope  nothing  will  ever  come  of  it.  His 
habits,  I  fear,  are  not  of  the  best.  She  is  not  at  all 
inclined  toward  him,  but  who  can  tell  what  influences 
might  be  brought  to  bear  on  a  young  girl  should  she  be 
kft  without  her  natural  protectors  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Fawcett," 


YOUNG  FA  WCSTTS  MA8RL. 

she  cried,  growing  more  earnest,  "if  th«  tim« 
comes  when  it  is  necessary,  use  every  force  in 
power  to  prevent  such  a  marriage  as  that.  You  have 
her  confidence.  She  thinks  a  great  deal  of  your 
opinion.  Don't  let  her  marry  a  man  who  is  more  likely 
to  break  her  heart  than  to  make  her  life  a  happy 
one  1 " 

The  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  this  family  had 
widened  so  gradually  that  Fawcett  was  not  surprised 
to  have  it  take  this  turn.  He  promised,  should  the 
emergency  arise,  to  do  his  very  best  to  prevent  Mabel's 
making  so  great  a  mistake  as  the  one  indicated.  Then 
his  curiosity  led  him  to  inquire  what  Mrs.  Morey  knew 
about  Mr.  Selden. 

"  He  is  anything  but  a  moral  young  man  ! "  was  the 
reply.  "  Trouble  with  half  a  dozen  girls  of  good  family 
have  already  been  charged  to  him.  His  mother  insists 
that  the  statements  are  libels,  but  where  there  is  so 
much  said  there  must  be  some  of  it  true.  He  is  very 
fascinating  in  his  manners,  and  has  plenty  of  money  in 
his  pocket  and  no  one  to  restrain  him.  He  is  my 
sister's  son,  and  I  wish  to  say  nothing  against  him,  bat 
the  thought  of  him  in  connection  with  such  a  pure  girl 
as  Mabel  is  simply  terrible." 

It  was  a  strange  coincidence  that  Frank  Selden 
should  come  to  Norwood  on  the  very  next  day,  to  pay 
a  visit  to  his  aunt  and  cousin.  He  had  never  been 
there  before,  and  was  the  last  person  for  whom  his 
relations  were  looking.  When  the  carriage  from  the 
railway  station  left  him  at  the  door  Mrs.  Morey  was 
filled  with  apprehension,  in  which  Mabel  fully  joined. 
Neither  of  them  knew  what  would  happen  when  Mr. 
Fawcett  came  home,  for  he  was  not  skilled  in  the  art 
•!  concealing  his  dislikes.  They  could  not  forbid 


60  YOUNG  FA  WCR  TT  'S  UAB&L. 

Frank  the  house,  being  on  snch  agreeable  terms  with 
his  mother,  and  having  never  had  the  least  open  rupture 
with  him.  It  was  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and 
as  soon  as  a  council  of  war  could  be  held  it  was  decided 
that  Mabel  should  go,  without  saying  anything  to  her 
cousin,  and  inform  Fawcett  of  the  state  of  affairs. 

"  Put  on  your  hat  and  leave  by  the  back  door,"  said 
her  mother,  "  for  if  Frank  knows  you  are  going  for  a 
walk,  he  may  ask  to  accompany  you.  I  will  tell  him, 
when  he  inquires,  that  you  have  gone  on  a  short  errand, 
and  will  keep  him  in  till  you  return." 

"But  what  shall  I  tell  Mr.  Fawcett ? "  stammered 
Mabel,  in  much  perturbation. 

"  I  don't  know.  You  must  do  the  best  you  can. 
Use  your  judgment.  Say  we  did  not  know  Frank  was 
coming,  and  we  are  not  over-pleased  at  it,  but  sec  no 
way  except  to  ask  him  to  remain.  Probably  he  will 
not  stay  more  than  a  day  or  two.  I  will  leave  it  tc 
you.  Remember,  much  may  hang  on  your  success  " 

On  the  way  to  the  office  of  the  commission  merchant 
Mabel  revolved  various  plans  in  her  mind.  But  when 
she  walked  in  upon  him  and  saw  the  smile  with  which 
he  greeted  her,  she  was  as  far  from  a  definite  decision 
as  when  she  left  the  house. 

"Ah,  hal  So  it's  you,  little  girl!'  said  Allan. 
There  was  no  other  person  in  his  private  office  at  the 
time,  and  they  wore  not  likely  to  be  disturbed.  "  You 
are  not  looking  quite  cheerful.  Nothing  gone  wrong, 
I  hope?" 

She  resolved  to  act  exactly  as  she  felt,  the  easiest 
way  out  of  what  was  at  best  an  unpleasant  dilemma. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Fawcett,  something  very  disagreeable  has 
happened." 

bt   trrirnvH.  hoadia*  tor  a 


Yt,UNG  FA  fFC^TT'J  MABEL-  if 

"  Well,  tell  us  all  about  it,  and  let  us  see  what  can  U 

done." 

"There's  nothing  can  be  done,  at  least  to-night," 
she  replied,  frowningly.  "  To-morrow  I  hope  he  will 
go  away,  but  to-night  he  must  stay,  I  suppose.  He's 
the  only  nephew  mamma  has,  and  of  course " 

He  understood,  and  lifted  a  hand  to  show  that  she 
need  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  So  Mr.  Frank  Selden  is  at  your  house  ?  " 

She  nodded  three  or  four  times. 

"  He  came  an  hour  ago,  without  the  slightest  warn- 
ing. I'm  almost  sure  he'll  go  to-morrow.  I  know  you 
won't  like  him,  and  I  thought  you  ought  to  be  prepared, 
and  not  come  upon  him  suddenly,  in  the  parlor  or 
dining-room." 

He  thought  a  moment,  with  knitted  forehead. 

"  I  guess  I'll  leave  town  for  a  day  or  two,"  he  said 
finally.  "I  can  make  a  business  errand.  I  don't 
want  to  meet  him,  that's  certain." 

A  little  sigh  issued  from  the  rounded  mouth  of  his 
companion. 

"  That  wouldn't  be  nice  of  you,"  she  expostulated. 
"  I  don't  like  to  be  left  alone  with  him.  I  was  hoping 
you  would  stay  in  the  house  about  all  the  time  he  was 
here." 

This  sounded  pretty  and  his  vanity  was  flattered. 
His  brows  unbent  as  he  contemplated  the  meaning  of 
her  statement. 

"  Where  is  your  mother  ? "  he  asked.  "  You  will  not 
need  to  be  strictly  alone  with  him  a  single  minute 
— that  is,  if  you  don't  wish  to." 

His  face  had  begun  to  darken  again.  His  moods 
were  instantly  reflected  on  that  mirror. 

"Oil,  don't  intimate  such  dreadful  ttuagsl"  lU 


62  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT*S  MABEL. 

tried.  "  I  am  never  easy  when  he  is  nenr  me.  I  am 
always  afraid  he  is  going  to  say  something.  Please 
don't  go  away,  and  please  stay  in  the  house  as  much  as 
ever  you  can  till  he  is  gone." 

He  ground  his  teeth  together. 

"I  don't  see  what  I  can  do  there,"  he  answered, 
with  another  frown.  "He  and  I  will  be  certain  to 
quarrel." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  needn't  1  "  said  Mabel  earnestly. 
"  He  is  the  most  polite  man  in  the  world,  and  all  you 
have  to  do  is  to  say  very  little  to  him.  You  can  talk 
to  me — and  I  will  talk  to  you — and  we  will  act  as  if  he 
wasn't  there." 

"  A  very  fine  plan  1 "  ejaculated  Fawcett.  "  I  don't 
believe  it  will  work.  He  is  your  cousin,  after  all,  and 
your  mother's  nephew,  and  I — I  am  nobody." 

"Nobody /"  She  put  her  small  hand  on  his  arm. 
with  the  action  of  a  person  who  is  aggrieved.  "  I  guess 
you  are  somebody.  Mamma  thinks  more  of  you  than  she 
does  of  a  thousand  Seldens." 

He  could  not  help  it.  There  seemed  no  sense  in  it 
whatever,  but  he  could  not  help  it.  And  he  asked  her, 
first  putting  one  of  his  hands  over  the  one  she  had 
touched  him  with,  whether  she  agreed  with  her  mother 
in  that  opinion. 

"Why,  I  don't  like  him  one  bit,"  she  replied,  trying 
to  avoid  seeming  to  see  anything  special  in  the  ques- 
tion, "and  you  are  just  like  an  own  brother." 

There  was  no  sense  in  the  next  thing  he  did,  either. 
He  knew  it  as  well  as  you  or  I,  dear  reader,  and  he 
did  it  just  the  same.  He  put  his  arm  around  her,  drew 
ker  to  him  and  kissed  her — actually  kissed  her ! — on 
the  cheek. 

-I'll  not  run  away,  Matel,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 


YOUNG  FAIVCETTS  MABEL.  63 

*  I'll  go  up  with  you  at  supper-dine.    Well  be  a  match 
for  this  fine  fellow." 

She  thanked  him  warmly,  and  said  he  was  as  good 
us  he  could  be.  Then,  taking  up  a  newspaper  that 
she  found  on  the  table,  she  went  over  into  a  corner  to 
let  him  finish  his  writing,  as  she  had  often  done  before. 
And  he  noticed  with  positive  exultation  that  she  had 
not  seemed  to  mind  his  kiss  any  more  than  a  child  of 
seven  would  have  done. 


CHAPTER  VL 

NOT  AN   IMPROPER 


ALLAN  FAWCETT  was  not  only  unused  to  women; 
he  was  afso  unused  to  men.  He  knew  how  to  trade 
with  them,  to  be  sure ;  to  take  their  orders  and  sell 
their  goods,  but  he  was  not  on  intimate  social  terms 
with  any  person  of  his  own  sex.  His  youth  had  been 
too  fully  occupied  with  other  cares  to  leave  him  any 
time  for  the  merely  agreeable  things  of  life.  The 
prospect  of  meeting  Mr.  Frank  Selden  was  a  greater 
lion  in  his  path  than  an  interview  with  a  dozen  whole- 
sale dealers  in  his  line  of  goods.  He  despised  the 
type  of  gentleman  he  conceived  him  to  be,  and  knew 
that  Mr.  Selden,  in  the  arrogance  of  his  wealth  and 
conceit,  very  probably  would  return  the  dislike  in  full. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  done,  however,  but  to  face 
the  music,  and  as  he  walked  toward  the  house  with 
Mabel  he  summoned  all  his  courage,  and  resolved  to 
tnake  the  best  of  it. 

Selden  had  been  talking  with  Mrs.  Morey  about  Allan 


64.  Y6UNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

the  entire  hour  before  his  arrival,  and  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  treat  him  with  the  greatest  consideration.  He 
felt  his  own  superiority  over  that  grade  of  person,  but 
he  meant  to  leave  a  favorable  impression  upon  him,  if 
he  could.  So  shrewdly  did  he  carry  out  this  plan  that 
the  young  merchant  was  soon  won  by  his  suavity,  and 
began  to  wonder  why  he  had  felt  such  an  antipathy 
against  him.  Selden  chatted  freely  with  all  three  of 
his  companions  at  the  supper-table,  speaking  least  to 
Mabel  and  oftenest  to  Allan.  He  laughed  a  great 
deal  when  anything  was  said  that  called  forth  mirth, 
seeming  in  the  best  of  humor.  He  managed  to  draw 
out  of  Fawcett  some  things  in  reference  to  his  business, 
appearing  to  be  deeply  interested  in  country  produce ; 
and  he  remarked,  with  a  self-critical  way,  that  he  wished 
he  had  something  of  use  to  do  in  the  world,  as  he  was 
thoroughly  tired  of  the  life  he  was  leading. 

"  You  don't  want  a  partner,  do  you  ? "  he  said,  in  a 
half-serious  manner,  that  was  not  at  all  patronizing. 
"  If  I  could  get  into  some  business  where  a  little  money 
and  less  brains  would  be  of  account,  I  think  it  would  be 
the  best  thing  for  me." 

Fawcett  replied  that  his  business  was,  as  yet,  but  a 
limited  one,  and  that  it  took  the  hardest  kind  of  appli- 
cation and  the  most  rigid  economy  to  get  much  out  of 
such  a  mine.  Then  he  went  into  instances  of  the  close 
margin  of  profit,  showing  how  the  result  of  a  month's 
work  might  be  swept  away  by  an  unexpected  depres- 
sion of  prices.  Selden  listened  entranced,  putting  in 
a  question  now  and  then,  as  though  anxions  to  probe 
everything  to  the  very  bottom. 

Mrs.  Morey  and  her  daughter  exchanged  surrepti- 
tious glances  of  wonder,  for  this  was  a  surprise  to  them 
of  the  first  magnitude.  They  had  expected  anything 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  6$ 

else.  When  they  all  withdrew  from  the  dining-room, 
nearly  an  hour  later  than  usual,  Fawcett  went  to  his 
room  with  Selden  to  show  him  a  file  of  the  "  Produce 
Weekly,"  in  which  were  certain  figures  bearing  on  the 
points  at  issue. 

"  Did  you  ever  in  your  life  see  anything  like  that  ?  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Morey,  when  she  was  left  alone  with 
her  daughter.  "  I  thought  those  young  fellows  would 
be  glaring  at  each  other  like  bull-dogs,  and  one  would 
imagine  instead  that  they  were  long-separated  brothers, 
What  did  you  do  to  Mr.  Fawcett  to  bring  him  home  in 
such  a  mood  ?  " 

"  /  didn't  do  anything,"  replied  Mabel,  with  redden. 
ing  cheeks.  "  But  he  did  something.  He  drew  me  t( 
him,  in  his  private  office  and  —  kissed  me  !  " 


Mrs.  Morey  wore  an  anxious  look  on  her  pleasant 
face.  Such  a  look  as  might  be  seen  on  the  counte 
nance  of  a  humane  general  when  the  first  sound  of  th« 
screeching  shell  comes  to  his  ears,  showing  that  tty 
battle  has  actually  begun. 

"  I  hope  you  were  very  careful,  my  child  ;  not  forwar^ 
at  all." 

"  Not  the  least,  mamma.  I  pretended  not  even  tq 
notice  it.  It  was  only  on  my  cheek  —  right  here."  Shi? 
indicated  the  exact  spot  which  his  lips  had  touched 
"  It  was  all  over  in  a  moment." 

The  widow  instituted  a  searching  inquiry,  after  tht 
manner  of  a  military  commission,  into  the  minutes! 
circumstances  of  the  important  event.  Did  Mr, 
Fawcett  seem  excited  ?  Should  the  girl  say  it  was  a 
passionate  kiss  ?  Did  he  draw  her  toward  him  with  a 
sudden  motion,  or  slowly  —  like  this  ?  She  wanted  the 
affair  rehearsed  exactly  as  it  occurred.  Was  it  oaly 
5 


6*  JTWW»  fAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

one  kiss,  one  touching  of  the  lips  to  the  cheek  and  an 
instantaneous  release  of  the  form  he  had  clasped? 
Very  well.  There  was  nothing  objectionable  in  that- 
Mr.  Fawcett  deserved  no  undue  criticism. 

"  Indeed,  I  quite  agree  with  you,  mamma,"  was  the 
quick  reply.  "  So  far  from  objecting  to  it,  I  only  wish 
I  was  sure  he  would  repeat  it  often.  It  was  the  hard- 
est thing  I  ever  had  to  do — to  act  as  if  I  didn't  mind 
it,  instead  of  turning  my  mouth  to  his,  and  giving  him 
one  in  return,  full  on  the  lips." 

The  mother  chided  Mabel  gently  for  the  freedom  of 
her  expressions,  and  took  occasion  to  impress  upon  her 
once  more  the  necessity  of  a  young  girl's  restraining 
her  emotions  to  the  fullest  degree. 

"  Men  never  respect  a  woman  after  they  had  seen  an 
exhibition  of  her  feelings,"  she  said.  "  You  must  act 
on  the  next  occasion  even  more  dignified  than  you  did 
on  this  one.  A  little  shrinking  away  must  be  prac- 
tised, a  show  of  disinclination  to  have  his  arm  embrace 
you." 

Mabel  looked  quite  distressed. 

"  But,  mamma,  there  is  nothing  wrong  about  a  kiss, 
is  there,  when  one  really  loves  a  man  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  it  is  not  a  question  of  abstract  right  or 
wrong,  but  of  something  hardly  less  important — that 
of  policy.  A  woman's  whole  career  may  depend  on 
her  observance  of  rules  that  civilization  has  hedged 
about  her,  not  the  violation  of  one  of  which  can  be 
stretched  to  the  limits  of  a  real  sin.  Before  marriage, 
that  is  the  vital  time.  Many  a  bright  career  has  been 
rained  by  a  failure  to  study  the  operations  of  the  mas- 
culine mind.  For  instance,  the  very  man  who  will 
attempt  liberties  with  a  girl  he  professes  to  love,  will 
her  as  long  as  he  lives,  if  she  permits  them." 


Y9VN6  FAWCSTT'S  MJLMKL  tf 

The  girl  still  seemed  uncertain  what  to  make  of  hoi 

mother's  attitude. 

"  But  you  don't  call  a  kiss  an  improper  liberty,  d« 
you  ?  I  want  to  understand." 

"  I  say,"  responded  the  mother  wisely,  "  that  such  a 
kiss  as  Mr.  Fawcett  gave  you  was  not  deserving  of 
censure,  under  the  circumstances.  Had  you  kissed 
him  in  return,  especially  upon  the  lips,  it  would  have 
been  a  very  grave  fault.  I  put  it  down  as  a  rule  that 
a  girl  should  never  permit  her  lips  to  touch  those  of  any 
man  but  her  wedded  husband.  Perhaps  I  am  too  strict 
in  this.  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  majority  of  men  expect 
such  a  kiss  to  follow  the  acceptance  of  their  offer  of 
marriage.  But  I  am  sure  that,  whatever  the  man's 
ardor,  he  will  have  a  higher  opinion  of  a  woman  who 
resists,  gently  but  firmly,  the  full  contact  of  her  mouth 
with  his,  even  at  that  moment,  than  of  one  who  gives 
way  to  the  sensations  that  thrill  her  heart.  And  with- 
out a  complete  declaration  of  a  desire  to  marry,  made 
in  unequivocal  terms,  and  an  acceptance  on  the 
woman's  part,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  such 
a  kiss  is  dangerous  and  unmaidenly  in  the  highest 
degree." 

The  girl  put  an  arm  about  the  neck  of  her  mother  and 
looked  lovingly  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  are  not  sorry  for  the  little  kiss  he  <&/give  me  ?w 
she  said,  pleadingly. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  was  the  affectionate  response. 

"  And  he  may  kiss  me  again,  just  the  same  way,  if— • 
if  he  ever  wants  to  ? " 

The  mother  smiled  encouragingly. 

"  With  a  little  more  unwillingness  on  your  part." 

"  But  I'm  not  unwilling  1  I'm  more  than  willing,  I'm 
anxious ! "  said  Mabel,  hiding  her  face  on  the  maternal 


68  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

bosom.  "  Oh,  I  wish  he'd  talk  marriage.  I  can't  wait 
forever.  The  days  are  dragging  too  slowly.  " 

Mrs.  Morey  said  "Hush  !  "  in  a  low  tone,  for  she 
heard  the  young  men  coming  down  the  stairs.  They 
were  talking  in  an  animated  fashion,  and  when  they 
appeared  good  humor  shone  on  the  faces  of  both. 

"  I've  learned  more  about  business  than  I  ever  knew," 
exclaimed  Selden,  as  he  caught  sight  of  his  aunt.  "  I 
really  think  I  shall  open  an  office  and  go  to  doing  some- 
thing. Mr.  Fawcett  half  thinks  he  will  take  me  into 
partnership  if  I  show  a  disposition  to  reform.  " 

Neither  Mabel  nor  her  mother  believed  this  anything 
more  than  a  temporary  mood  that  would  soon  pass 
away,  if  indeed  it  was  not  merely  a  desire  to  be  amus- 
ing. But  Selden  repeated  a  dozen  times  in  the  course 
of  the  evening  that  he  was  in  earnest,  and  that  if  Mr. 
Fawcett  would  give  him.  a  chance  he  would  prove  his 
assertion.  Allan  was  almost  sorry  the  next  morning, 
when  the  young  Bostonian  announced  that  he  must 
leave  on  the  next  train. 

"  Good-bye,  aunt,  "  said  Frank,  touching  her  cheek 
with  his  lips.  "  Good-bye,  little  cousin, "  he  added, 
taking  Mabel's  hand  and  letting  go  of  it  again  in  a 
quarter  of  a  second.  "Come  and  see  us  when  you  can. 
I  don't  know  how  long  it  may  be  before  I  see  Norwood 
again,  unless  I  get  my  partnership. "  He  laughed 
brightly.  "  Come,  Mr.  Fawcett,  there  is  time  to  stop 
at  your  store  before  the  train  is  due." 

There  was  a  full  hour  to  be  spent  at  the  store,  and 
before  he  left  town  Selden  made  a  distinct  offer  to  put 
some  money  into  the  concern,  should  Fawcett  ever 
want  to  enlarge  the  business  beyond  its  present  capacity. 
Allen  went  to  the  depot  with  him,  and  they  parted  more 
than  amicably. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  69 

"  He's  a  good  fellow, "  thought  Fawcett,  as  he  walked 
back  to  his  office.  "  I  ought  not  to  hate  him  just 
because  he  wanted  to  kiss  his  pretty  cousin.  Goodness  \ 
I've  often  wanted  to  do  the  same  thing  myself,  and 
yesterday  I  actually  did  it.  He  won't  bother  her  any 
more.  As  for  his  offer,  it's  worth  thinking  of.  If  I  had 
$5,000  more  to  work  with  I  could  double  the  business 
I  am  doing.  " 

Mabel  Morey  could  not  tell  what  to  make  of  her 
mother's  boarder  for  the  next  month.  He  seemed 
almost  oblivious  of  her  presence  when  in  the  house. 
He  was  receiving  letters  from  Frank  Selden,  relating  to 
the  proposition  he  had  made,  and  the  merchant's 
anxiety  to  increase  his  business  drove  everything  else 
from  his  mind.  One  day  he  announced  that  he  would 
be  gone  for  a  short  time  out  of  the  State,  and  taking  a 
grip-sack,  with  hardly  a  formal  good-bye,  he  went  to 
Boston. 

Mabel  could  not  keep  back  the  tears,  though  she 
did  not  let  him  see  them.  She  loved  him  deeply,  and 
his  recent  coldness  toward  her  was  something  for  which 
she  could  not  account.  She  even  began  to  fear  that 
he  had  seen  some  other  woman  whom  he  liked  better. 
With  the  fullest  confidence  she  unbosomed  herself  to 
her  mother,  who  was  equally  at  a  loss  to  explain  Faw- 
cett's  conduct.  The  elder  lady  said,  however,  that  she 
did  not  believe  there  was  a  woman  in  the  case ;  that  it  was 
more  likely  Allan  had  renewed  his  old  resolutions  not 
to  permit  himself  to  get  entangled  with  anything  fem- 
inine. When  he  returned  she  would  talk  to  him.  After 
she  sounded  him  a  little  she  could  advise  Mabel  better 
what  to  do. 

Fawcett  stayed  in  Boston  a  whole  week.  He  had 
become  possessed  with  the  idea  that  he  must  hav«  th« 


7«  T*fflVff  FA  WCE TT  S  MABEL. 

money  that  Selden  offered  him,  and  secure  it  without  a 
partnership,  if  possible.  He  wished  to  continue  sole 
manager  of  his  affairs,  but  was  willing  to  pay  a  fair 
sum  or  share  of  his  profits  for  the  use  of  the  capital 
he  wanted.  The  debates  over  these  matters  took  up  a 
good  deal  of  time.  Besides  this  Selden  insisted  on 
showing  his  guest  the  sights  of  the  city,  and  refused 
positively  to  permit  him  to  pay  for  anything.  Allan 
would  much  rather  have  paid  his  share  of  the  joint  ex- 
pense of  the  excursions,  or  in  lieu  thereof  have  limited 
them  to  a  much  smaller  cost.  But  the  city  young  man 
had  a  way  of  buying  the  tickets  and  paying  the  checks 
before  the  countryman  could  even  draw  his  purse; 
and,  though  uneasy  at  the  constant  flow  of  money  for 
his  expenses,  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  way  to 
avoid  it. 

Up  to  this  time  Fawcetfs  attendance  at  theatres  had 
been  very  limited.  He  had  counted  every  dollar  with 
the  greatest  care.  Selden  took  him  almost  nightly  to 
one  of  the  entertainments,  saying  it  was  his  invariable 
practice  to  see  everything  that  came  to  town. 

Being  twenty  years  of  age,  and  having  no  pretensions 
to  saintship,  Allan  did  not  refuse  to  accompany  his  new 
friend  to  other  places  of  much  more  doubtful  morality, 
merely,  as -they  both  said,  to  see  what  was  going  on, 
and  not  with  any  intention  of  remaining.  At  all  of 
these  places,  Mr.  Selden  was  greeted  by  the  name  of 
"  Frank,"  and  fair  arms  were  placed  about  his  neck  by 
the  frail  occupants  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  parlors 
where  they  were  ensconced.  Allan  was  introduced  as 
"My  friend,  Mr.  Smith,"  and  Selden  had  to  laugh  at 
the  fiery  glow  that  came  into  his  face  when  one  of  the 
girls,  whose  name  was  "  Sadie,"  began  to  make  love  to 
him.  It  is  to  the  credit  •£  human  nature  that  there  is  a 


70UN6  PA  WCMTT>S  MABEL.  7 1 

time  when  even  a  man  is  capable  of  blushing.  But 
contact  with  vice  soon  destroys  this  faculty,  and  before 
Fawcett  left  Boston  he  could  enter  a  palace  of  sin  as 
coolly  as  his  companion. 

Those  who  have  read  the  sermon  that  the  reformed 
roue,  Hector  Greyburn,  delivered  in  Rev.  Arthur 
Reycroft's  pulpit,  in  "  Thou  Shalt  Not,"  must  have  been 
impressed  by  his  delineation  of  the  blasting  character  of 
a  violation  of  the  Seventh  Command.  That  week  in 
Boston,  under  the  tutelage  of  Frank  Selden,  did  more 
harm  to  Allan  Fawcett  than  he  dreamed  of.  It  shook 
the  foundations  he  had  been  so  carefully  building. 
He  had  tasted  of  "  pleasure,"  he  had  seen  money — not 
his  own,  to  be  sure,  but  money  still — wasted  as  if  it 
were  so  much  water  in  a  season  of  freshets.  He  felt, 
as  he  went  back  to  Norwood,  that  his  business  was  a 
more  insignificant  thing  than  he  had  supposed  it,  and 
that  the  road  he  had  marked  out  to  travel  was  harder 
and  more  dusty  than  he  had  ever  imagined. 

"  The  money  is  yours,  whenever  you  choose,"  were 
the  parting  words  of  Selden.  "  The  more  I  think  of 
it,  the  less  I  want  to  tie  myself  up  to  real  work,  but  I 
have  capital  to  invest  and  confidence  in  your  ability 
and  probity.  You  can  have  $5,000  any  time  you  like. 
Whether  you  accept  it  or  not,  come  up  to  the  city  once 
in  a  while  and  have  a  little  fun.  I  have  enjoyed  your 
stay  immensely." 

He  was  certainly  a  very  nice  fellow  !  Fawcett  said 
to  himself  a  hundred  times  that  no  one  could  deny 
that.  His  morals  were  a  trifle  lax,  but — and  he  red- 
dened again  at  the  thought — he  had  no  right  to  criticise 
him  on  that  score.  Had  he  Selden's  money,  instead  of 
being  obliged  to  give  up  the  next  twenty  years  to  ac- 
quiring a  quarter  part  of  the  sum,  perhaps  he  would  be 


7 2  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

no  better  himself.  Such  girls  as  Sadie  were  too  attract- 
ive to  spend  much  time  in  lamenting  their  condition. 
Allan  thought  he  would  accept  Frank's  invitation  to  go 
to  Boston  again,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  meeting  that 
entrancing  creature. 

But  when  he  entered  Mrs.  Morey's  dwelling  and  looked 
into  the  anxious  eyes  of  Mabel,  the  contrast  between 
this  pure  girl  and  the  depraved  one  from  whom  he  had 
so  recently  parted  struck  him  with  tremendous  force. 
He  thought  how  abruptly  he  had  left  Norwood,  and 
how  he  had  not  written  a  word  during  his  absence  to 
explain  the  unexpected  length  of  his  stay.  Instinct 
told  him  that  Mabel  had  suffered  from  this  neglect  and 
that  his  conduct  was  inexcusable,  from  whatever  point 
it  might  be  viewed.  His  landlady  happened  to  be  out 
at  the  moment  of  his  arrival,  and  he  stood  face  to  face 
with  her  daughter. 

"  Well,  Mabel,  I'm  home." 

He  put  down  his  bag  and  drew  the  girl  to  a  seat 
on  the  sofa,  by  his  side.  The  recollection  of  the 
young  woman  at  Boston  struck  him  again,  as  he  did 
so,  and  he  released  Mabel  in  the  very  act  of  embrac- 
ing her. 

This  action  distressed  the  girl  greatly. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  she  asked,  in  a  whisper.  "  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  done  something  to  make  you  dislike 
me." 

Forgetting  everything,  he  caught  her  full  in  his  arms. 

"  Dislike  you !  I  like  you  better  than  any  other 
person  in  the  world ! " 

She  put  up  her  lips  for  him  to  kiss,  in  the  suddenness 
of  her  delight,  but  remembering  her  mother's  caution, 
lowered  them  again,  and  received  the  salute  on  her  fore- 
head. 


FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  7J 

Then  she  heard  a  step  on  the  walk,  and  hastily  left 
his  side  to  take  a  chair. 

"  Hush  !  "  she  said,  returning  the  fond  look  he  gv  9 
her,  "  mamma  is  coming  1 " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SADIE  WEARS   EVENING   DRESS. 

THE  $5,000  of  Mr.  Frank  Selden  was  soon  put  into  the 
business  which  Allan  Fawcett  controlled.  The  arrange- 
ment by  which  this  was  made  was  highly  satisfactory 
to  the  commission  merchant  at  the  time.  There  was 
not,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term,  any  partnership 
whatever.  Fawcett  merely  gave  his  notes  for  the  sum 
borrowed,  with  a  mortgage  on  everything  he  owned  to 
secure  the  lender.  He  was  to  pay  ten  per  cent,  for  the 
use  of  the  money,  and  a  slight  additional  percentage 
on  his  net  profits  each  year  until  he  had  paid  it  all 
back  again. 

Selden  had  the  instincts  of  a  capitalist,  and  had  no 
intention  of  losing  anything  through  the  kindly  act  he 
had  done.  He  was  willing  to  give  Allan  a  lift,  but  he 
realized  that  money  was  not  to  be  obtained  everywhere 
on  such  security  as  he  had  to  offer.  He  satisfied  him- 
self that  his  new  friend  was  thoroughly  honest  and 
bound  to  succeed,  and  discovered  away  to  benefit  both 
parties  and  cause  a  loss  to  neither. 

For  a  short  time  Fawcett  was  intensely  elated  at  the 
additional  facilities  with  which  he  could  now  do  busi- 
ness. He  sought  for  more  opportunities  to  buy  goods 
directly,  instead  of  relying  mostly  on  those  sent  him  to 
be  disposed  of  on  commission.  The  first  venture  that 


74  YOUNG  FA  WCETT*S  MABEL. 

he  made  netted  him  a  comfortable  profit.  The  second 
resulted  in  a  loss.  The  third  was  again  on  the  right 
side  of  the  ledger.  The  only  trouble  was  that  he  could 
not  help  a  new  feeling  of  anxiety,  a  mental  unrest  that 
was  not  good  for  one  of  his  temperament.  He  did  not 
sleep  as  soundly  as  he  had  done  before.  Bad  news 
from  the  centre  of  trade  worried  him  exceedingly. 
Good  news  raised  his  spirits  to  an  unhealthy  degree. 
He  was  continually  oscillating  from  extreme  to  extreme, 
and  it  was  nearly  as  bad  for  him  to  hear  of  a  large  gain 
as  of  a  distressing  loss. 

He  told  everything  to  Mabel,  and  to  her  mother ; 
that  is,  after  he  had  secured  the  additional  capital,  for 
he  kept  that  secret  back  as  a  pleasant  surprise  for  them. 
In  his  joy  he  did  not  notice  that  Mrs.  Morey  hardly 
seemed  to  share  his  brilliant  hopes  for  the  future  of 
the  transaction.  She  would  certainly  have  advised  him 
against  it,  had  she  been  consulted  in  time.  When  the 
thing  was  consummated,  and  he  had  the  money,  it  was 
too  late  to  say  anything,  and  she  was  compelled  to 
hold  her  peace.  She  was  shrewd  enough  to  see  that 
her  nephew  had  made  a  good  business  bargain,  pro- 
vided Mr.  Fawcett's  judgment  held  out.  The  interest 
he  was  to  get  for  his  money  was  about  double  the 
usual  rate.  She  wished,  for  Mabel's  sake,  that  Fawcett 
had  continued  in  the  slower  but  surer  path  he  had  be- 
gun, but  she  did  not  tell  him  so,  nor  did  she  even  say  it 
to  her  daughter.  She  continued  to  hope  for  the  best. 

It  was  not  to  be  denied  that  Allan  and  Mabel  were 
becoming  closer  friends  every  day.  A  marriage  would 
result  unless  all  signs  failed.  Things  had  gone  too  far 
now  to  alter  her  plans,  even  if  she  had  desired. 
Mabel  was  devotedly  attached  to  her  young  friend,  with 
what  Byron  calls  "  first  and  passionate  love."  Allan 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


75 


liked  hor,  undoubtedly.  It  needed  only  time  and  faif 
business  prosperity  to  arrange  the  date. 

Being  constantly  with  Mabel,  every  evening  of  his 
Life,  as  well  as  at  nearly  all  of  his  meals,  Fawcett  grew 
more  and  more  confidential  with  her.  The  attack  of 
conscience  that  he  had  had  on  his  return  from  Boston 
made  her  seem  more  beautiful  and  lovely  in  his  eyes 
than  ever  before.  Had  any  one  entered  the  parlor 
where  they  were  together — and  no  one  ever  did,  not 
even  the  managing  mamma,  without  due  warning — they 
would  have  been  taken  for  real  lovers.  Generally 
they  were  sitting  close  together  on  the  sofa,  or  her 
chair  was  drawn  against  his,  his  hands  holding  hers  in 
a  close  clasp. 

One  cannot  talk  with  a  pretty  girl  day  after  day 
without  saying  things  that  grow  to  have  a  meaning,  and 
Fawcett,  though  he  tried  very  hard  not  to  say  anything 
definite,  felt  in  a  vague  way  that  he  was  gradually  be- 
coming entangled.  And  he  was  not  sorry  for  it,  either. 
Mabel  was  still  very  young.  There  was  plenty  of 
time  to  consider  the  matter,  in  its  serious  aspect.  In 
the  meanwhile  it  was  agreeable  to  have  her  near  him, 
and  to  see  the  sympathy  for  his  aause  shining  out  of 
the  sweet  gray  eyes. 

If  he  could  have  read  what  passed  through  that 
young  brain  it  is  difficult  to  say  what  the  result  would 
have  been.  Day  after  day  the  em«  u^^Li  ;^£naill 
in  Mabel's  mind  was,  "  Why  doesn't  he  speak  ? "  Was 
he  to  go  on  forever  with  his  talk  of  prices,  of  cargoes, 
of  good  and  bad  harvests,  of  how  much  $5,000  at  ten 
per  cent  would  come  to  in  a  year  ?  Was  there  never 
to  be  a  time  when  he  would  bend  over  her  and  say, 
"  Darling,  I  love  you ! " 

But  daily  talks  with  her  mother  taught  her  the  value 


; 6  YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

of  time  in  matters  of  war,  and  convinced  her  that  the 
enemy  was  surely  if  slowly  abandoning  his  entrench- 
ments and  retreating  into  his  central  fortification, 
which  he  would  have  to  evacuate  in  turn,  previous  to  a 
complete  surrender. 

At  the  end  of  three  months  from  the  time  he  had 
borrowed  the  money  Fawcett  went  to  Boston  again. 
He  had  other  business  there,  but  he  thought  it  a  good 
opportunity  to  talk  with  Selden,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
since  the  cash  was  exchanged  for  his  notes.  To 
Allan,  who  considered  a  dollar  almost  a  sacred  thing, 
it  was  astounding  that  any  one  should  lend  so  much 
money  and  pay  so  little  attention  to  it  for  so  long  a 
time.  He  thought  it  his  duty  to  lay  before  Selden  the 
entire  results  of  his  business  since  the  additional  cap- 
ital had  been  paid  in.  Frank  laughed  when  he  heard 
this  proposition,  and  responded  that  if  there  was  one 
thing  he  hated  more  than  another  it  was  detail. 

"  Have  you  been  doing  better  or  worse  ?  That  is 
the  whole  question,"  he  said.  "  I  wouldn't  listen  to 
those  columns  of  figures  you  have  there  for  a  farm 
Down  East." 

"  But  I  want  to  show  you,"  protested  Allan,  un- 
easily. "  You  see,  the  first  thing  I  did,  was  on  the 
I4th,  when  I  bought " 

"  I  must  interrupt  you,"  broke  in  the  other.  "  I 
don't  care  a  rap  whether  you  bought  anything  on  the 
I4thor  the  24th,  or  whether  it  was  hay,  beans  or  butter 
that  you  bought.  If  you  can  tell  how  much  you  have 
made  in  the  last  quarter  I  am  willing  to  listen,  but  not 
to  another  solitary  thing." 

Fawcett  looked  dissatisfied. 

**I  can't  tell  exactly  what  I've  made,"  said  he,  "  because 
I  have  a  good  deal  of  stock  still  on  hand  waiting  for  a 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  77 

rise.  When  I  only  did  a  straight  commission  business 
I  knew  pretty  near  where  I  was,  my  only  trouble 
being  that  some  fellow  would  put  me  off  occasionally, 
or  perhaps  go  into  bankruptcy  before  I  could  get  what 
he  owed  me." 

"Well,  how  does  it  look?"  asked  Selden,  impa- 
tiently. "  You've  got  some  kind  of  an  idea.  Or, 
haven't  you  ? " 

Thus  compelled  to  answer  in  a  way  he  did  not  like, 
Fawcett  said  he  had  cleared  $850  in  the  quarter  before 
he  had  dealt  with  Mr.  Selden,  and  that  if  he  were  to 
sell  what  he  had  on  hand  at  present  prices,  reckoning 
interest,  etc.,  on  his  loan,  he  would  come  out  about  the 
same. 

"  Not  doing  as  well  as  you  expected,  then  ? "  re- 
marked Selden,  sententiously. 

"  But  I  tell  you  it  is  not  a  fair  way  of  reckoning,"  said 
Fawcett,  "  for  I  expect  to  get  a  substantial  profit  from 
the  rise  that  ought  to  take  place  before  I  sell." 

"  And  if,  instead  of  a  rise,  there  should  be  a  fall  in 
prices  ? " 

Fawcett  grew  a  shade  paler. 

"  That  is  very  unlikely  to  occur,"  he  said. 

M  But  it  may.  The  thing  doesn't  look  as  rosy  as  it  did 
three  months  ago,  does  it  ? " 

Fawcett  was  compelled  to  admit  to  himself  that  it 
didn't,  but  he  would  not  say  so  to  this  man.  He 
wished  with  all  his  heart  that  he  had  never  borrowed  a 
dollar.  It  was  too  late  to  talk  about  that  now,  though, 
and  he  was  glad  when  Selden,  of  his  own  accord, 
changed  the  subject. 

"  I've  got  tickets  for  the  theatre  to-night.  Will  you 
go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.    What  is  the  play  ?  * 


78  Y9UNG  FA  WCETT*S  MAMML. 

"The  Black  Crook." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  that.  I've  heard  a  good  deal  about 
it." 

"  Never  seen  it !  "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  Heavens ! 
What  a  countryman  you  are!  Why,  I  suppose  I've 
Been  that  play  twenty  times." 

Allan,  abashed,  inquired  what  there  was  to  make  it 
SO  attractive. 

"  Legs,  legs,  legs !  Nothing  but  legs  I  The  man 
who  wrote  it  got  a  fortune  out  of  it,  just  because  it 
happened  to  be  used  for  a  spectacle  and  filled  with 
good-looking  girls.  As  a  literary  production  it  hasn't 
a  particle  of  merit ;  as  a  medium  for  the  exhibition  of 
female  anatomy  it  is  absolutely  without  a  rival.  The 
theatre-going  public  of  the  present  age  is  demoralized. 
It  passes  by  the  greatest  actors  and  actresses  to  wit- 
ness the  nearest  approach  to  nudity  that  the  law  will 
permit.  If  you  haven't  seen  the  Crook  it  will  be  a 
great  treat  to  you." 

That  evening  Fawcett,  who  had  never  seen  a  dis- 
play at  all  approaching  the  one  before  him,  justified  the 
prediction  of  his  companion.  He  was  so  absorbed  in 
watching  the  fairies  that  he  hardly  heard  Selden 
whispering  excitedly  in  his  ear  : 

"  There  she  is  ;  sixth  row,  to  the  right.  She  recog- 
nizes you.  Let  her  see  that  you  remember  her,  but 
be  careful,  as  others  here  may  know  her." 

Fawcett  turned  in  a  dazed  way  toward  the  quarter 
indicated. 

"  Of  whom  are  you  speaking  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Your  old  friend,  the  seraphic  Sadie,"  whispered 
Frank.  "  See  her,  there,  with  an  ostrich  fan.  Look 
out,  don't  attract  attention." 

Allan  saw  the  young  woman  at  last,  and   a  glow  of 


YQVNC  FA  WCXTT'S  MASML.  ft 

eolor  swept  over  his  face  as  she  smiled  significantly  at 
him.  The  curtain  was  rising  for  the  last  act,  and  he 
turned  toward  the  stage  with  a  feeling  of  relief.  The 
gorgeous  effects  of  mechanic  and  painter,  mingled  with 
the  rounded  forms  of  a  hundred  women  lying  in  atti- 
tudes of  the  most  ravishing  beauty,  set  his  brain  on 
fire.  When  the  great  curtain  slowly  descended  he 
longingly  gazed  at  the  vanishing  loveliness  with  a 
decided  tinge  of  regret. 

"  Sadie  is  going  directly  home,"  said  Selden,  as  they 
started  toward  the  exit.  "  She  has  telegraphed  me 
that  she  shall  expect  us  there." 

Fawcett  held  back  in  the  crowd.  His  head  was  in  a 
whirl. 

"  I — I  think  I  won't,"  he  stammered.  "  I  must  get 
up  early  in  the  morning,  and  I  gu«ss  I  will  go  to  the  hotel 
now." 

' '  Pshaw !  Come  around,  if  only  for  a  minute. 
That's  common  politeness.  It's  only  a  short  walk 
from  here.  No,  I  insist.  After  that  I  will  walk  to  the 
hotel  with  you." 

Selden  was  the  stronger  of  the  twain,  when  it  came 
to  an  influence  of  this  kind,  and  Allan  found  himself 
yielding.  He  would  go,  he  said,  but  strictly  for  only  a 
word.  Nothing  should  persuade  him  to  remain.  If 
she  asked  him  to,  he  relied  on  Selden  to  help  him 
out. 

"  You  will  tell  her  it  is  impossible,  won't  you  ? "  he 
pleaded.  "We  will  go  in  just  to  speak  and  outagain." 

Frank  laughed,  saying  he  should  think  Sadie  was 
some  dangerous  wild  animal,  of  whose  bite  Allan  was 
afraid.  As  he  spoke  they  ascended  the  steps  of  the 
house  and  rang  the  bell. 

Miss  Sadie  had  been  to  the  theatre  in  full  evening 


8  o  YO  UNC  FA  WCE  TT*S  MABEL. 

dress,  and  made  a  pretty  picture  as  she  came  in  to  re- 
ceive her  callers.  She  professed  to  be  very  glad  to  see 
"  Mr.  Smith  "  again,  saying  she  had  recognized  him  in 
the  theatre  long  before  he  saw  her,  and  had  spent  most 
of  the  evening  with  her  eyes  on  him  instead  of  the 
play. 

"  I  hope  you  are  going  to  stay  some  time  in  the  city," 
she  concluded,  in  the  most  bewitching  manner. 

"  N-no,"  he  stammered.  "  I  go  on  the  early  train 
to-morrow  morning." 

She  turned  to  Mr.  Selden  with  an  aggrieved  expres- 
sion. 

"  Now,  Frank  !  Isn't  that  dreadful !  You  know  I 
have  asked  you,  every  time  you  called,  when  he  was  to 
be  here  again — and  now  to  have  him  stay  so  short  a 
time !  It  is  outrageous  !  What  excuse  have  you  for 
such  conduct  ? "  she  asked  Fawcett,  putting  her  hand 
affectionately  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Business  demands  it,"  he  told  her,  but  already  he 
was  weakening. 

"  Oh,  you  men  !  How  long  will  you  live  if  you  keep 
on  at  this  rate !  "  she  cried.  "  Business,  business,  al- 
ways business ! " 

With  a  show  of  doing  as  he  had  been  asked,  Selden 
interfered,  with  the  statement  that  "  Mr.  Smith  "  had 
made  him  promise  to  remain  but  a  moment  on  this 
occasion,  as  he  wished  to  get  to  his  hotel  early  so  as  to 
have  a  good  night's  rest  before  his  earfy  call.  He  said 
this,  however,  with  a  look  that  showed  the  girl  he  had 
no  interest  in  the  matter,  and  when  he  finished  she 
uttered  a  little  scream  of  dismay. 

"  It  is  not  true  !  You  would  not  keep  me  these  long 
weeks  pining  for  you  and  then  give  me  merely  a  word 
and  a  good-bye.  Com*  into  the  next  parlor  where  I 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL,  gi 

can  talk  to  you.  Wait  for  us,  Mr.  Selden.  We'll  not 
belong." 

And  before  Allen  could  debate  the  question  with  her 
she  had  dragged  him  away  and  closed  the  door  behind 
her. 

"  Why  must  you  go  ? "  she  demanded  of  her  com- 
panion. 

The  poet  has  well  said,  when  speaking  of  the  bait 
that  the  devil  finds  most  attractive, 

"  I  fish  with  a  woman  the  whole  year  round." 

Fawcett  did  not  get  the  first  train  the  next  morning. 
It  was  noon  when  he  left  Boston,  and  nearly  night 
when  he  reached  Norwood.  Never  had  he  felt  so 
wretched,  not  even  in  those  days  when  hardly  a  penny 
stood  between  him  and  hunger,  when  his  only  bed  was 
a  hard  mattress  under  the  garret  roof  of  a  farm-house. 

How  could  he  ever  meet  Mabel ! 

He  went  to  his  office  and  remained  there  after  the 
front  store  was  closed.  He  had  no  appetite  for  supper, 
and  he  meant  to  stay  until  it  was  so  late  that  he  would 
escape  seeing  anybody  at  his  lodging  until  the  next 
morning.  The  next  morning !  Could  he  ever  look 
again  into  those  pure  eyes,  after  the  second  time  he 
had  dishonored  her ! 

He  tried  to  justify  himself,  or  at  least  to  lessen  the 
enormity  of  his  conduct.  He  was  neither  married  nor 
engaged.  He  intended  to  lead  a  single  life  for  many 
years  yet,  and  the  common  judgment  of  men  allowed 
some  liberty  to  a  bachelor.  He  was  no  worse  than 
others  ;  why  need  he  be  so  severe  on  such  an  ordinary 
fault  ? 

To  every  question,  there  eame  clearly  the  one  r* 


82  YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL. 

sponse— Mabel  f  He  had  done  wrong  to  Mabel.  It 
was  not  very  clear  how  this  might  be,  but  that  was 
the  accusation  against  him,  from  his  conscience. 
Mabel,  Mabel!  He  had  sinned  against  Mabel/ 

About  nine  o'clock  a  faint  tap  on  his  window-pane 
attracted  his  attention.  Somebody  had  seen  the  light 
and  wanted  to  leave  an  order,  perhaps.  Fawcett  re- 
mained perfectly  still,  hoping  the  caller  would  think  the 
light  an  accident  that  had  been  forgotten,  and  go  away. 
But  the  tapping  was  begun  again,  and  thinking  it  might 
be  as  well  to  have  it  over,  he  rose  and  went  through 
the  store  to  the  street  door  and  opened  it.  His  con- 
sternation was  complete  when  a  lithe  female  figure 
emerged  from  the  darkness  and  he  saw  before  him  the 
object  of  his  thoughts  for  the  past  ten  hours. 

"  I  supposed  it  must  be  you,"  said  the  girl,  entering 
the  store,  and  closing  the  door  after  her.  "  Nobody 
else  ever  lights  up  the  private  office  at  night.  It  is 
nice  I  roused  you,  for  now  we  can  go  home  to- 
gether." 

She  was  walking  along  into  the  inner  room,  and  he 
followed  her  mechanically.  As  they  entered  she  caught 
sight  of  his  pale  face  and  turned  to  him  in  alarm. 

"  You  are  ill  1  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  are  in  soma 
trouble !  Oh,  my  darling,  tell  me  what  it  is  !  " 

Years  of  careful  instruction  by  the  most  careful  of 
mothers  had  failed  at  the  vital  point.  She  had  called 
him  by  the  most  affectionate  name  known  to  the  English 
tongue,  in  that  moment  of  apprehension,  born  of  the 
saddest  expression  she  had  ever  seen  on  his  counte- 
nance. And  she  did  still  more.  She  put  both  hands 
on  his  shoulders  and  held  up  to  him  a  face  it  needed 
no  seer  to  tell  him  was  wholly  his  own. 

With  his  first  thought,  that  of  his  total  unworthiness, 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.        83 

he  thrust  her  hastily  away.  Had  his  touch  meant 
death  he  would  not  have  felt  more  like  avoiding  her. 

The  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  what  is  it?  Have  I  done  anything  to  you! 
Are  you  angry  that  I  tapped  on  the  window  ?  Don't 
you  want  to  walk  home  with  me  ?  Tell  me  what  you 
wish  and  I  will  do  it,  only  don't  look  at  me  like  that ! " 

He  had  held  this  girl's  hand  in  his,  he  had  kissed 
her  on  the  cheek  and  on  the  forehead.  And  he  had 
been  with  that  other  woman — !  Could  the  lapse  of 
time  ever  make  him  fit  to  touch  this  one  again ! 

"No,  Mabel,"  he  murmured,  with  a  gasp.  "There 
has  nothing  happened  for  which  you  are  to  blame. 
You  must  not  ask  me  questions,  for  I  cannot  answer 
them.  But  this  I  will  say — you  never  were  so  dear  to 
me  as  you  are  now." 

A  glad  smile  shone  through  the  tears  as  she  heard 
him.  She  was  wise  enough  not  to  press  him  for  a 
further  explanation,  though  she  was  "  dying,"  as  women 
say,  to  know  what  caused  his  distress.  She  said  she 
would  rather  have  anything  else  happen  to  her  than  to 
feel  that  she  had  injured  him.  Each  word  was  like  a 
stab.  He  thought  the  best  way  was  to  go  home  with 
her  at  once,  as  that  would  the  sooner  place  him  out  of 
sound  of  her  accusing  voice,  and  he  proceeded  to  put 
away  his  things  and  lock  up  his  desk. 

Until  now  he  had  not  thought  to  look  at  the  evening 
paper,  but  seeing  it  lying  on  the  table,  the  business 
side  of  his  nature  impelled  him  to  open  it,  to  glance  at 
the  state  of  the  market.  There  had  been  an  advance 
in  the  price  of  the  articles  he  was  holding,  and  so 
great  was  his  satisfaction  at  this  fact  that  he  could  not 
help  uttering  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Wait  a  minute  1 "  he  said. 


14  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

Opening  his  desk,  he  took  up  a  pen  and  began  to 
figure.  Five  minutes  later  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
that  he  ever  had  cause  to  mourn.  If  he  sold  his  stock 
in  the  morning,  at  the  prices  that  ruled  to-night,  he 
would  be  seven  hundred  dollars  better  off  than  he  had 
told  Selden  ! 

"  Mabel,"  he  cried,  looking  up  with  every  sign  ot 
trouble  eliminated  from  his  face,  "if  everything  con- 
tinues as  it  looks  now  I  shall  have  a  good  deal  of 
money  by  and  by.  If  I  should  get  enough  so  that  I 
felt  justified  in  asking  you  to  marry  me " 

He  could  get  no  further,  the  sudden  surprise,  fol- 
lowing her  pain  at  the  reception  she  had  met,  was  too 
much  for  the  girl.  She  gave  unmistakable  signs  of 
fainting,  and  he  sprang  up  to  open  the  window. 

A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  restore  her,  but  when  he 
essayed  to  finish  his  proposition  she  gently  begged  him 
to  wait  till  some  other  time. 

"  Let  us  go  now,"  she  said.  "  It  is  late,  and  mamma 
will  wonder  \rhat  has  detained  me  so  long." 

As  they  passed  up  the  street  she  leaned  rather 
heavily  on  his  arm,  and  they  walked  very,  very  slowly. 

"  Let  me  finish  what  I  started  to  say  in  the  office," 
said  Fawcett,  seeing  that  they  were  quite  alone.  "  I 
shall  feel  better  to  have  it  over  with.  I  intended  to 
remain  a  bachelor  until  late  in  life,  because  I  felt  that 
it  would  take  me  a  long  time  to  get  enough  money  to 
support  a  wife  without  taking  too  much  from  my 
business.  I  used  to  say  it  was  probable  I  would  be 
forty  years  old  before  that  occurred.  Now,  since  I  have 
had  the  extra  capital  from  Mr.  Selden,  I  can  get  on  much 
faster.  If  I  prosper  it  may  only  be  a  very  few  years 
before  I  am  able  to  marry.  I  don't  want  you  to  feel 
bound  to  me,  for  you  are  still  very  young,  and  there  are 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  85 

go  many  things  that  may  happen ;  but  if  everything 
should  go  right,  and  I  get  the  money  sooner  than  I 
expect — well,  the  fact  is,  you  are  the  only  girl  I  ever 
cared  for,  and  the  only  one  I  should  ever  think  of 
wanting  for  a  wife." 

It  was  not  romantic,  this  mixing  of  marriage  with 
potatoes,  of  love  with  the  price  of  grain.  The  girl  felt 
a  sense  of  pique  at  the  manner  of  his  statement,  but 
she  listened  with  silence,  clinging  possibly  a  little  less 
closely  to  his  arm. 

"  We  won't  call  it  an  engagement,  exactly,"  continued 
Allan,  as  if  it  was  a  matter  for  him  to  settle  alone. 
"  Only,  you  see,  I  like  you  immensely,  and  I  want  you 
to  understand  just  how  I  am  situated.  We'll  be  real 
good  friends,  and  we'll  wait  and  see  how  things  turn 
out  Is  that  all  right,  Mabel  ?  " 

The  girl  nodded,  without  raising  her  eyes  from  the 
ground,  were  they  had  rested  during  the  entire  con- 
versation. When  they  entered  the  house  they  found 
no  one  in  the  parlor,  but  after  a  moment's  delay,  Allan 
went  to  his  room,  saying  he  was  tired  and  wanted  to 
get  to  sleep. 

"  I  found  Mr.  Fawcett  at  his  office,  mamma,"  said 
Mabel,  when  she  had  gone  to  her  mother's  chamber, 
"  and  on  the  way  home  he  said  the  strangest  things 
to  me." 

"  Did  he  ask  you  to  marry  him  ? "  inquired  Mrs. 
Morey,  anxiously. 

"  I  hardly  know  whether  he  did  or  not,"  said  Mabel, 
with  a  pout.  "  I'll  repeat  it  to  you  as  well  as  I  can  and 
see  what  you  think  about  it.'* 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"HIS  WIFE,   OF  COURSE." 

THERE  were  many  ups  and  downs  in  the  business  of 
Allan  Fawcett  during  the  next  six  months.  Some  of 
my  readers  may  smile  at  the  silliness  of  his  capital, 
and  think  the  loss  or  gain  of  |p-w  thousand  dollars 
not  a  proper  thing  on  which  to  found  important  events 
in  a  novel.  But  such  a  variation  meant  as  much  to 
this  young  man  as  a  hundred  times  that  amount  means 
to  those  in  better  circumstances.  The  oscillations  in 
his  little  bank  account  kept  him  in  a  continual  state  of 
nervous  tension,  and  accounted  for  the  entire  chain  of 
circumstances  which  brought  about  the  results  I  have 
to  record. 

Mabel  Morey  was  no  stranger  to  the  least  of  these 
figures.  On  evenings  when  another  man  would  have 
talked  to  her  of  poetry  or  of  music,  Allan  rehearsed 
the  day's  business.  The  commission  orders  still  paid 
him  well,  and  his  entire  uneasiness  came  from  the 
direct  purchases  he  made  and  his  inability  to  forecast 
the  state  of  the  market  twenty-four  hours  in  advance. 
He  was  operating  on  borrowed  money,  that  was  the 
trouble.  Mabel  listened,  with  patience,  to  every  word 
he  uttered,  though  she  grew  very  tired  of  it. 

"  If  I  could  get  enough  together  to  pay  Selden  what 
I  have  borrowed,  without  incommoding  myself — I  never 
would  go  into  debt  again  as  long  as  I  live,"  be  remarked 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  87 

frequently.  "  And  I  want  to  tell  you  another  thing, 
Mabel.  If  I  had  that  paid,  and  $10,000  on  hand,  I 
would  not  wait  long  to  get  married,  either." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath,  but  without  attracting  his 
Attention.  Marriage  did  not  seem  very  near,  on  those 
terms.  Her  mother,  however,  still  counselled  her  not 
to  get  impatient.  She  seemed  to  feel  that  all  would 
come  out  right  in  the  end. 

There  were  several  times  when  Fawcett  could  have 
paid  half  his  indebtedness,  had  he  been  willing  to  do 
so;  but  the  chance  of  investing  a  little  deeper  and 
sweeping  it  all  off  at  once  was  too  much  for  his  judg- 
ment, and  the  opportunity  slipped  away.  Then  there 
came  a  sort  of  miniature  "  Black  Friday  "  to  him,  when 
he  would  not  have  been  able  to  pay  dollar  for  dollar  on 
all  he  owed,  had  he  been  called  upon  for  immediate 
settlement.  The  alarm  he  felt  was  so  great  that  it  act- 
ually landed  him  in  bed,  sick  from  fear  that  the  very 
worst  was  about  to  fall  on  him.  Mrs.  Morey,  with  the 
kind  interest  she  always  showed,  attended  him,  doing 
everything  she  could  for  his  comfort.  This  was  on 
Sunday,  when  nothing  new  could  be  learned,  and  he 
passed  the  day  as  he  had  the  night,  between  the  sheets, 
tossing  restlessly  about,  and  getting  very  little  sleep. 

"  Is  there  anything  more  I  can  do  ?  "  asked  the  widow, 
sympathetically,  when  she  had  bathed  his  forehead 
and  taken  away  the  remains  of  the  food  he  had  hardly 
tasted. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "You  can  let  Mabel  come  up 
here." 

Mrs.  Morey  started.  But  the  young  man  was  cer- 
tainly quite  ill.  He  was  like  a  real  member  of  the 
family.  It  would  do  no  harm  that  she  could  conceive 
of.  And  she  replied,  with  a  few  guarded  expressions, 


88  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

that  she  would  let  the  girl  come  up  for  a  little  while, 
but  that  he  ought  to  try  and  get  a  nap  before  long. 
She  went  down  and  had  a  talk  with  her  daughter,  and 
twenty  minutes  later  the  young  couple  were  together, 
the  door  being  discreetly  left  a  little  ajar  for  the  sake 
of  Mrs.  Grundy. 

"  I  am  worried  to  death,"  said  Allan,  taking  Mabel's 
hand  in  his.  "  And  I  think  all  the  time  about^you,  too. 
If  the  market  sinks  again  to-morrow  there  will  be  little 
chance  of  my  being  able  to  provide  a  home  for  you  in 
a  long  time." 

She  patted  the  hand  gently,  and  told  him  he  must 
hope  for  better  news  in  the  morning. 

"  And  even  if  your  worst  fears  are  realized,"  she 
added,  with  a  blush,  "  you  will  need  me  all  the  more. 
It  is  not  when  one  is  successful  that  he  most  wants 
friends.  I  have  confidence  in  your  ability,  and  feel 
that  you  will  come  out  of  this  difficulty  a  better  business 
man  than  ever." 

A  grateful  sensation  stole  through  his  veins  as  he  felt 
the  gentle  pressure  of  that  hand  and  heard  those  low 
words  of  cheer. 

"  I  wish,  ever  so  much,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  could 
afford  to  get  married  now.  As  you  say,  one  needs  true 
friends  in  adversity  more  than  when  the  best  luck  is 
with  him.  I  wanted  you  to  come  up  just  now  more 
than  I  wanted  anything  else,  and  I  was  half  afraid 
your  mother  would  not  think  it  proper.  If  we  were 
married  you  would  help  me  over  such  rough  places  as 
this  in  a  way  you  cannot  do  now." 

The  thought  of  marriage  always  had  a  soothing  in- 
fluence on  the  girl.  She  leaned  over  the  bed  and 
touched  her  cheek  for  one  moment  to  his. 

"  It  cannot  cost  90  very  much  to  be  married,"  she 


YOUNG  FA  WC ETT^S  MABEL.  89 

stammered,  looking  at  the  pictures  on  the  bedquilt. 
"  I  know  mamma's  expenses  are  light,  and  we  have 
everything  we  need.  As  for  me,  I  never  want  much. 
I  have  clothes  enough  now  to  last  almost  a  year." 

It  took  the  girl  much  longer  to  utter  those  sentences 
than  it  does  you  to  read  them.  Every  sentence  hurt. 
But  she  was  ready  for  almost  anything  now  except  an  j 
indefinite  postponement  of  her  hopes.  Fawcett  was  j 
the  only  man  she  had  ever  cared  for,  and  his  faults  did 
not  seem  as  glaring  to  her  as  if  this  had  not  been  the 
case.  If  she  could  say  anything  to  arouse  the  dormant 
thought  in  his  brain  that  he  could  marry  without  en- 
dangering his  bank  balance — provided  there  should  be 
any  when  the  next  evening's  papers  arrived  —  she 
wanted  to  do  it. 

And  in  this  she  was  successful.  All  the  pleasures  of 
being  a  husband,  the  delight  of  calling  that  pretty  girl 
his  wife,  stole  in  upon  the  mind  of  the  sick  man. 
W:;th  a  dream  of  future  happiness  he  fell  asleep,  her 
hand  still  in  his,  and  when  he  awoke,  an  hour  later,  he 
was  much  refreshed. 

"  I  must  have  slept  a  long  time,"  he  exclaimed,  rous- 
ing himself.  "And  you  did  not  move,  for  fear  of 
waking  me!  What  a  good  girl  you  are!  Do  you 
know,  Mabel,  I  thought  in  my  sleep  that  we  were  really 
married,  and  it  seemed  as  natural  as  could  be."  He 
put  one  arm  outside  the  coverlet  and  drew  her  toward 
him.  "  Let  me  get  out  of  this  trouble  with  the  market, 
and  I  will  not  wait  much  longer,  dearest." 

She  let  him  steal  one  kiss  from  her  cheek,  and  then, 
gently  disengaging  herself,  said  she  must  go  for  awhile. 
If  he  wanted  anything  he  could  ring  the  little  bell  that 
her  mother  had  placed  on  the  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
bed. 


9»  YOUNG  FA  VTCETT'S  MAM&L. 

"  But  I  want  something  aow,"  be  smiled,  significantly. 
**  I  want  you." 

Another  kiss  would  have  followed,  had  she  permitted 
it,  but  she  rose  with  a  laugh,  telling  him  he  was  im- 
proving altogether  too  fast.  When  the  market  had 
turned,  she  said,  they  would  talk  again.  She  left  the 
room,  wafting  a  salute  to  him  with  her  ringers,  with 
which  he  was  fain  to  be  content  for  the  present ;  and 
having  nothing  to  disturb  him,  he  went  to  sleep  again. 
In  the  morning  he  was  down  to  breakfast  at  the  usual 
hour. 

The  morning  paper,  placed  beside  his  plate,  told  him 
there  had  been  a  reaction,  to  some  extent,  on  Saturday 
evening,  and  that  the  tendency  of  prices  was  in  his 
favor.  His  depressed  spirits  began  to  rise,  and  he  went 
to  his  office  with  a  good  deal  of  courage.  By  the  use 
of  the  telegraph  he  kept  informed  of  the  fluctuations  at 
New  York,  and  as  soon  as  he  could  clear  himself  of  the 
loss  that  had  stared  him  in  the  face  he  sold  all  the 
stock  he  had  accumulated,  to  be  delivered  imme- 
diately. 

"  I'm  out  of  that  scrape,"  he  said  joyfully,  when  he 
came  home  to  supper.  "  Next  time  I'll  be  more  careful 
I  have  had  a  lot  of  new  orders,  to-day,  besides  ;  take  it 
altogether,  I  am  feeling  pretty  well/' 

Mabel  was  glad,  and  he  felt  the  effect  of  her  sym- 
pathetic smile.  She  was  a  nice  girl.  Could  he  not 
manage  it  so  as  to  marry  without  that  fortune  he  had 
always  considered  a  necessary  prerequisite.  After 
supper  he  had  her  to  himself  in  the  parlor  and  acted 
the  most  like  a  lover  since  she  had  known  him. 

"I  guess  we'd  better  call  it  an  engagement,"  he  said 
with  his  arm  around  her.  "  I  want  to  have  it  under- 
Stood  with  your  mother.  Perhaps  it  won't  be  for  a 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  91 

good  while,  but  it'll  have  to  come.  I've  liked  you  ever 
since  I  came  to  live  here,  and  I've  tried  to  push  away 
the  feeling,  because  it  seemed  as  if  I  must,  but  I  can't 
do  it  any  longer.  I'll  tell  her  about  it  to-night,  when 
she  comes  in  and  explain  just  how  I  feel." 

An  engagement !  Could  it  be  possible  that  he  meant 
it,  after  all  this  time  !  His  manner  of  announcing  it 
was  not  the  most  polished,  but  he  had  a  business  air, 
that  convinced  her  it  was  genuine.  Yes,  it  was  the 
best  thing  that  could  happen,  to  have  the  engagement 
understood.  It  gave  her  something  like  a  substantial 
basis  for  her  expectations. 

When  Mrs.  Morey  came  back  from  the  stores  where 
she  had  been  to  make  some  purchases,  Fawcett  called 
her  in  and  informed  her  of  his  latest  intentions  in  the 
same  blunt  way  he  had  told  Mabel. 

"  You  know  I've  always  said  I  shouldn't  marry  till  I 
was  better  off  in  life,"  he  explained,  "  but  I've  been 
thinking  it  over,  and  I  don't  want  to  wait  quite  so  long. 
So  I  would  like  to  have  it  understood,  you  know,  that 
it's  an  engagement." 

The  widow  smiled  affectionately  upon  her  daughter, 
and  paused  discreetly  before  answering. 

"  Mabel  is  very  young,"  she  said  finally. 

"  She  is  nearly  nineteen,"  replied  Allan,  "  and  I  am 
twenty-one.  We  are  not  exactly  babies,  and,  as  I  said, 
we  sha'n't  get  married  at  once.  Only,  I  want  it  under- 
stood," he  added,  repeating  the  phrase  as  if  he  enjoyed 
the  sound. 

Mrs.  Morey  took  Mabel  by  the  hand  and  drew  her 
toward  her. 

"  Do  you  love  Mr.  Fawcett  enough  to  marry  him  ?  " 
she  asked,  exactly  as  if  they  had  discussed  anything 
•ke  together  for  the  last  year. 


92  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

Mabel,  with  red  and  white  cheeks,  answered  by  a 
low  bow. 

"Then,"  said  Mrs.  Morey,  "I  cannot  withhold  my 
consent.  I  have  only  one  child,  and  my  greatest  wish 
is  that  she  may  be  happy.  Marriage  is  the  natural  lot 
of  woman.  I  hope  she  will  make  as  good  a  wife  as  she 
has  been  a  daughter." 

Then  the  two  women  shed  some  genuine  tears,  for 
their  love  for  each  other  was  the  most  real  part  of  their 
natures. 

Fawcett  fidgeted  uneasily  on  the  sofa.  If  he  hated 
one  thing  more  than  another  it  was  weeping. 

"I  understand,  then,"  he  said,  lamely,  "that  it  is 
understood." 

The  formality  of  the  engagement  did  exactly  what 
might  have  been  expected — it  hastened  the  wedding- 
day.  The  conversation  at  table  began  to  drift  into  the 
question  of  household  expenses.  Instances  were  given 
of  men  who  had  married  without  a  penny  and  risen  to 
affluence  by  the  aid — principally,  as  it  appeared — of 
their  helpmeets.  It  turned  out  that  it  was  really  much 
cheaper  to  feed  and  clothe  two  persons  than  one — 
very  much  cheaper.  In  this  sort  of  arithmetic  two  and 
two  did  not  make  four,  but  the  product  amounted  in 
some  mysterious  way  to  only  about  one  and  a  half. 

The  next  morning  Fawcett  was  thoroughly  disgusted 
to  see  by  the  paper  that  another  advance  had  taken 
place  in  market  materials  generally.  Had  he  only  been 
courageous  enough  to  wait  twenty-four  hours  longer  he 
would  have  been  $300  ahead.  The  lesson  he  had 
believed  learned  the  day  before  turned  out  to  be  but  a 
temporary  thing.  He  was  sorry  he  had  been  so 
precipitate,  and  resolved  the  next  time  to  wait  the 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABML.  93 

inevitable  turn  in  the  tide  before  selling.  He  took  up 
a  price  list  for  the  previous  year,  and  studied  out  the 
fluctuations,  trying  to  find  the  rule  by  which  they 
were  governed.  In  the  midst  of  his  investigations 
a  letter  came  from  Frank  Selden,  advising  him  not  to 
sell  at  present,  if  he  had  any  stock  on  hand,  as  a  friend 
on  the  inside  had  told  him  prices  were  certain  to  rise 
rapidly  soon.  Fawcett  could  hardly  contain  himself 
for  vexation,  as  he  read  this  letter.  If  Selden  had  only 
known  enough  to  telegraph,  it  might  have  done  some 
good. 

It  turned  out  as  Frank  prognosticated.  Prices  rose 
steadily  for  the  next  month,  and  every  day  Fawcett 
gnashed  his  teeth  as  he  figured  out  the  loss  he  had  sus- 
tained by  disposing  of  his  stock.  The  final  figures 
showed  a  total  of  $2,800,  a  sum  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance to  him  at  that  time. 

"  If  I  hadn't  sold  till  now  I  would  have  made  enough 
to  feel  justified  in  getting  married  immediately,"  he 
told  Mabel,  when  the  time  came. 

These  things  would  undoubtedly  have  discouraged 
most  girls  beyond  repair,  but  Mabel  Morey  bore  them 
all  in  silence.  As  Allan  was  the  only  lover  she  had 
ever  had,  she  could  not  compare  him  with  others,  to 
his  disadvantage.  She  still  liked  him  very  much,  and 
waited  patiently,  as  advised  by  her  mother,  till  the 
stream  should  turn  her  way. 

The  climax  in  Fawcett's  anger  at  his  bad  luck 
came  with  a  letter  from  Selden,  telling  him  to  "  Sell 
now,"  weeks  after  he  had  let  everything  go  without  a 
cent  of  profit.  He  had  a  great  notion  to  return  the 
borrowed  money,  with  what  interest  was  due,  and  thus 
clear  himself  forever  from  the  unpleasant  alliance. 
But  the  temptation  to  try  again,  the  convenience  of 


94  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

having  such  a  handsome  balance  to  draw  on,  dissuaded 
him. 

Selden  came  to  Norwood  soon  after  this,  and  when  he 
alluded  to  the  high  turn  the  market  had  made,  Faw- 
cett  could  not  bring  himself  to  tell  him  the  truth.  He 
did  not  say  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the  rise,  but 
neither  did  he  admit  that  he  had  lost  the  chance.  And 
to  add  to  his  feeling  toward  Selden,  the  latter  made 
several  days'  stay  at  his  aunt's  house,  seeming  to  find 
the  company  of  Mabel  very  agreeable. 

It  was  not  possible  for  Fawcett  to  break  out  against 
this  fellow,  who  had  done  him  such  great  favors,  and 
he  endured  his  torture  in  silence,  though  with  an  ach- 
ing heart.  While  he  was  at  his  office,  Frank  was 
around  the  house,  saying  bright  things  to  Mabel,  no 
doubt,  and  trying  to  arouse  in  her  a  liking  for  himself, 
as  he  had  done  of  yore.  Twenty  times  Allan  tried  to 
tell  Frank  of  his  engagement,  but  the  words  stuck  in 
his  throat,  and  he  had  to  content  himself  with  hinting 
to  Mabel  that  she  ought  to  be  careful  with  such  a  man 
as  she  knew  her  cousin  to  be. 

"  I  don't  see  what  I  can  do  except  treat  him  well," 
was  the  girl's  response.  "  He  hasn't  said  anything 
really  improper  to  me,  this  time." 

"  What  does  he  talk  about  all  day  ?  "  asked  Fawcett 
crossly.  "  He  seems  to  find  your  society  very  enter- 
taining." 

Mabel  nodded,  as  if  this  could  not  be  denied. 

"Frank  likes  me,"  she  said  softly.  "I  wish  he 
didn't.  His  mother  keeps  writing  to  mine  that  we 
ought  to  be  married." 

Allan  started  with  apprehension. 

"  Has  he  said  anything  to  you  like  that  ?  "  he  dd- 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  95 

"N-not  exactly." 

"  Do  you  think  it  right,  when  you  are  engaged,  to 
flirt  with  every  man  who  comes  along  ?  "  asked  Faw- 
cett  indignantly. 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes  to  his.  He  felt  before  she 
spoke  how  much  graver  his  accusation  was  than  the 
facts  on  which  it  was  based. 

"  I  have  never  flirted  with  him,  nor  with  any  one," 
she  answered.  "  He  is  my  cousin.  I  cannot  drive 
him  away  from  the  house." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Allan,  determined  not  to  be  recon- 
ciled. "  I  shall  tell  your  mother  what  I  think  about 
it.  That  confounded  loan  ties  my  tongue  to  him,  but 
she  shall  know  my  opinion.  If  he  is  going  to  stay 
here  and  make  love  to  you,  I  shall  change  my  lodging, 
that's  all !  " 

The  tears  rose  to  Mabel's  eyes. 

"Oh,  don't  do  that!"  cried  Allan,  roughly.  "I'd 
rather  you'd  strike  me  than  cry.  It  irritates  me  ter- 
ribly." 

However,  he  did  not  speak  to  Mrs.  Morey.  On  the 
following  morning  Selden  came  into  his  office  with 
the  announcement  that  he  was  going  back  to  Boston. 

"Yes,  this  town  is  too  dull  for  me,"  he  added. 
•*  Even  Boston  is  hardly  lively  enough.  New  York  is 
the  only  decent  place.  I  think  I  should  move  there,  if 
it  wasn't  for  mother.  A  fellow  has  to  consider  things 
like  that,  you  know.  Well,"  he  added,  banteringly, 
"  What  word  shall  I  take  from  you  to  Sadie  ?  " 

Fawcett  felt  a  momentary  shock  at  the  commin- 
gling, almost  in  one  sentence,  of  the  name  of  Frank's 
mother  and  a  woman  of  the  town.  It  showed  him 
more  than  anything  else  how  little  true  sentiment  thtrt 
was  in  the  young  man. 


96  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  You  need  not  tell  her  anything,"  he  replied .  "  I 
shall  never  see  her  again.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  never 
mean  to  go  to  such  a  place  so  long  as  I  live.  I  was 
disgusted  with  myself  the  last  time.  The  more  one 
thinks  of  it,  the  more  terrible  it  grows.  A  girl  pre- 
tends to  love  a  man  she  has  only  known  half  an  hour, 
and  then  the  next  day  goes  through  the  same  form  of 
affection  with  another  !  When  you  stop  to  think  of  it, 
such  things  are  simply  dreadful !  " 

Frank  Selden  gave  utterance  to  a  low  whistle. 

"  So  you  have  become  a  woman-hater  ?  "  he  said. 

"  A  hater  of  such  women,  yes." 

"  They  are  all  pretty  much  alike,"  laughed  Selden. 
"  It  is  mainly  a  matter  of  the  degree  of  pretence  they 
use." 

Fawcett  grew  sober. 

"  Then  the  right  thing  for  a  man  to  do  is  to  get  mar- 
ried," said  he. 

"  How  will  he  better  himself  by  that  ? "  came  the 
sneering  question. 

"  He  will  be  sure  that  at  least  one  woman  is  true  to 
him,"  said  Allan,  gravely. 

"  What  woman  will  that  be  ?  " 

"  His  wife,  of  course." 

Selden  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  merrily. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  where  have  you  lived  ?  Why, 
wives  have  got  to  be  watched  as  carefully  as  chicken- 
coops,  in  these  days.  The  shrewdest  men  are  con- 
stantly getting  fooled.  We  can  see  our  neighbor's 
house,  over  the  way,  better  than  we  can  our  own. 
Well,  I  must  go.  Good-bye.  Write  me  once  in  » 
while,  and  look  out  for  yourself  in  business  matters. 
I'll  tell  Sadie  what  you  say,  though  it  will  break  her 
keart" 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  97 

The  commission  merchant  thought  a  long  time  of 
what  his  visitor  had  said.  It  was  undoubtedly  true 
that  there  were  false  wives  in  the  world,  though  not  by 
any  means  as  many  as  his  language  seemed  to  inti- 
mate. It  behooved  a  man  who  was  about  to  marry  to 
find  a  perfectly  innocent  girl,  and  to  lose  no  effort  to 
keep  her  so.  Such  a  girl,  he  thought,  as  Mabel  Morey, 
who  had  spent  her  entire  life  at  her  mother's  side, 
ignorant  of  wickedness,  pure  as  when  she  lay  in  her 
cradle, — one  who  could  never  go  astray ;  who  would 
not  even  understand  what  the  would-be  seducer  meant 
if  he  tried  to  exercise  his  arts  on  her. 

He  turned  to  his  books.  The  commissions  that  he 
received  were  of  late  rapidly  increasing.  Deducting 
the  total  amount  of  his  indebtedness,  and  supposing 
all  bills  due  him  to  be  good,  he  found  by  an  easy  com- 
putation that  he  was  worth  $4,250.  And  his  twenty- 
second  birthday  had  not  yet  arrived. 

Would  marriage  be  a  very  expensive  thing  ?  He 
wished  he  knew  exactly  how  much  it  would  cost.  This 
idea  of  waiting  till  he  was  forty  for  a  wife  could  not  be 
carried  out.  He  was  firmly  resolved  that  he  never 
could  stoop  to  an  ignoble  attachment  again.  The 
more  he  reflected  the  more  he  was  inclined  to  ask  Mrs. 
Morey's  consent  to  the  fixing  of  an  early  day  for  his 
wedding.  He  thought  of  it  as  a  matter  between  that 
lady  and  himself  entirely.  Mabel  had  nothing  to  do 
about  it,  in  his  opinion,  but  to  get  ready  when  she  was 
told  the  time  had  come.  It  was  for  older  and  wiser 
heads  to  settle  such  matters. 
7 


Y9UNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A   GREAT   DEAL   OF   SERVING. 

**DiD  Mr.  Selden  call  on  you,  on  his  way  to  the 
depot  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Morey,  at  noon.  "  He  decided 
suddenly  to  go  away,  and  said  he  wanted  to  stop  at 
your  office." 

When  Allan  replied,  the  lady  drew  a  long  breath  and 
told  him  she  hated  to  say  it,  but  it  was  certainly  a 
great  relief  to  her  that  her  nephew  had  left  town. 

"  His  mother  is  my  only  sister,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am 
under  a  hundred  obligations  to  her,  but  I  have  no  faith 
in  Frank.  I  have  been  on  needles  and  pins  ever  since 
he  came." 

After  dinner  Fawcett  asked  Mrs.  Morey  to  see  him 
alone  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  parlor.  There  he  told 
her  what  he  had  in  mind.  He  had  concluded  that  an 
earlier  marriage  than  the  one  he  had  contemplated 
would  be  the  best  thing  for  him.  In  fact,  he  wanted 
no  more  delay  now  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 

Welcome  as  were  the  tidings,  glad  as  she  was  to  see 
the  near  outcome  of  her  long  siege  at  this  fortress,  the 
widow  was  obliged  to  temporize,  for  the  sake  of 
appearances.  She  alluded,  over  and  over,  to  the  ex- 
treme youth  of  her  daughter,  to  her  lack  of  acquaint- 
ance with  the  world,  even  to  her  need  of  a  longer 
apprenticeship  at  the  duties  of  a  housekeeper. 

"  She  is  a  veritable  child,"  she  declared.  "  You 
would  need  the  utmost  patience  with  her.  I  cannot 
imagine  her  at  present  in  the  guise  of  a  wife.  And 


YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABR&.  99 

then,  think  of  the  possibilities  of  becoming  a  mother 
at  such  an  age  !  " 

A  mother  !  Little  Mabel  a  mother  !  Had  anything 
been  needed  to  increase  the  ardor  of  his  suit,  these 
words  would  have  accomplished  it.  A  vision  of  sur- 
passing sweetness  came  to  him, — a  little  form  wrapped 
in  swaddling  clothes,  lying  in  Mabel's  arms  ! 

There  was  nothing  so  attractive  to  him  as  children. 
He  never  passed  one  out  for  an  airiug  in  its  carriage 
without  stealing  a  peep  at  its  little  face.  Liking 
money  so  well,  he  always  found  his  hand  geing  to 
his  pocket  for  pennies  when  he  came  upon  a  group  of 
little  ones  flattening  their  noses  against  a  confectioner's 
window.  One  night,  on  the  railroad,  when  he  was  a 
newsboy,  he  took  a  crying  child  from  its  exhausted 
mother,  "  for  a  few  minutes, "  and  kept  it  six  hours, 
while  she  got  the  first  good  sleep  she  had  had  for 
days.  Under  his  care  the  infant's  wailings  were 
hushed,  and  it  also  sank  to  slumber.  And  when  the 
lady  offered  to  recompense  him  for  the  long  vigil  she 
had  unintentionally  caused  him,  he  replied  that  the 
obligation  was  on  his  part  and,  that  he  could  not  think 
of  accepting  anything  whatever. 

"  You  are  hardly  consistent,  Mrs.  Morey,"  he  said, 
when  he  came  back  to  earth  again.  "  You  were  the 
mother  of  Mabel  when  you  were  scarcely  older  than 
she.  And  I  am  sure,  "  he  added,  gallantly,  "  you  are 
none  the  worse  for  that." 

Mrs.  Morey  inclined  her  head  gravely. 

"  That  is  true,  "  she  replied,  after  a  moment.  "  But 
J  seem  to  have  been  older  in  experience  than  she. 
Years  are  not  everything.  Mabel  knows  no  more  of 
life  than  most  children  of  five." 

''And  that  is  one  of  the  strongest  reasons  why  I 


I  oo  YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT 'S  MABEL. 

admire  her,  "  said  Fawcett.  "  I  want  to  marry  a  girl 
with  a  perfectly  innocent  mind.  Say  that  you  will 
consent,  and  relieve  my  anxiety." 

Mrs.  Morey  finally  said  she  would  consult  with 
Mabel,  and  would  give  her  answer  in  the  evening. 

"What  were  you  talking  about  so  long?"  asked 
Mabel,  as  soon  as  Fawcett  had  left  the  house. 

"  He  wants  to  marry  you  immediately, "  smiled  her 
mother. 

With  clasped  hands  pressed  against  her  breast  the 
girl  uttered  a  little  cry  of  relief.  "  I  hope  you  put 
nothing  in  his  way,  mamma,"  she  said.  "  You  didn't 
think  it  necessary  to  skirmish  for  more  delay,  did 
you  ? " 

The  widow  shook  her  head  in  mild  disapproval. 

"  My  dear  child,  you  shock  me  by  some  of  the  things 
you  say.  As  long  as  you  are  sure  of  him,  I  should 
think  the  longest  possible  wait  would  suit  you  best." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  was  the  honest  reply.  "  I  have  waited 
now  until  I  feel  like  an  old  maid.  O  yes,  I  want  to  get 
married.  And  no  man  is  sure  till  you  have  him  tied 
fast  by  the  preacher.  When  did  you  arrange  it  for  ? 
Not  later  than  next  month,  I  solemnly  hope.  " 

A  sad  laugh  at  the  girl's  earnestness  was  forced  from 
her  mother's  lips. 

"  I  left  the  time  unsettled.  Arrange  it  between  you 
to-night,"  she  said.  "  I  shall  turn  him  over  to  you 
when  he  finishes  supper.  But,  let  me  warn  you  for 
the  last  time,  a  woman  must  profess  a  desire  for  delay. 
Men  expect  it.  They  are  disappointed  if  they  do  not 
have  to  do  just  so  much  urging.  And  so — my  little 
girl  wants  to  get  rid  of  her  old  mother  ? " 

Mabel  nestled  close  to  the  loving  bosom. 

"  You  are  the  dearest  mamma  in  the  world,  but  you 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  IO1 

can't  be  a  husband  ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  shall  always 
love  you  as  dearly  as  ever,  but  a  girl  doesn't  seem  any- 
body at  all  until  she  is  married." 

The  mother  responded  warmly  to  her  daughter's 
caresses. 

"He  will  require  a  great  deal  of  managing,"  she 
said,  in  allusion  to  Fawcett.  "He  is  inclined  to  dom- 
ineer, and  would  make  the  life  of  a  woman  a  burden 
to  her  if  he  were  permitted  to  do  so.  I  shall  always 
be  ready  to  give  you  advice.  " 

An  hour  followed,  devoted  to  the  general  subject 
of  controlling  husbands  and  of  the  best  methods  to  be 
pursued  under  a  large  variety  of  circumstances.  The 
advice  given  by  the  elder  lady,  while  it  would  un- 
doubtedly interest  the  reader,  is  hardly  permissible  for 
me  to  use,  as  most  of  it  was  imparted  under  the  seal  of 
confidence.  It  is  probably  paralleled  daily  in  similar 
cases  by  other  ladies  who  think  they  have  discovered 
a  sovereign  panacea  for  all  the  troubles  incident  to 
matrimony,  and  the  reader  will  have  occasion  to  notice, 
as  this  tale  proceeds,  how  valuable  it  proved  to  the 
young  wife  that  was  to  be. 

After  considerable  time  had  been  consumed  in 
reasons  pro  and  con,  Mabel  and  Allan  agreed  upon  a 
date  for  their  nuptials.  Now  that  he  had  decided  to 
marry,  and  within  a  short  time,  he  could  not  endure  the 
least  unnecessary  delay.  The  girl  found  him  as  ardent 
as  she  could  have  wished.  Two  months  were  allowed 
for  preparation,  each  day  of  which  Fawcett  grudged 
exceedingly. 

As  the  slight  arrangements  proceeded  the  young  man 
seemed  to  change  his  entire  disposition.  He  grew  as 
sentimental  as  any  lover  in  poetic  fiction.  His  departure 
for  his  office  in  the  morning  was  delayed  beyond  the 


1 02  Y9VNG  FA  WCE TT '5  MABEL. 

usual  hour.  At  noon  he  lingered  longer  than  he  had 
ever  done,  and  in  the  evening  he  never  left  the  house 
unless  she  was  with  him.  The  news  of  the  impending 
event  spread  over  the  town,  and  to  all  who  knew  him 
well  enough  to  allude  to  the  subject  he  responded 
proudly  that  it  was  a  true  report.  Those  who  intended 
to  turn  the  subject  into  a  jest  were  taken  aback  by  his 
manner. 

The  young  business  man  rose  in  the  estimation  of  his 
townsmen.  Not  only  was  he  one  of  the  brightest  mer- 
chants of  his  age  that  they  knew,  but  he  had  the  elements 
of  a  substantial  man  of  family  in  his  composition.  They 
said  among  themselves  that  he  might  have  selected  a 
wiser  helpmeet  than  that  girl  of  the  Widow  Morey's, 
but  it  might  come  out  all  right.  There  was  no  account- 
ing for  marital  selections. 

It  always  takes  a  good  deal  of  sewing  to  prepare  a 
young  woman  for  the  marriage  altar.  There  is  a  recog- 
nized list  of  things  to  wear  that  she  ought  to  have,  in 
order  to  enter  on  the  sacred  obligations  she  is  about  to 
assume.  Mrs.  Morey  could  not  do  as  much  as  she 
would  have  liked  for  her  daughter  in  this  respect,  but 
she  ran  the  sewing-machine  day  after  day  on  such  goods 
as  she  could  afford,  until  it  seemed  to  the  ignorant  Mr. 
Fawcett  that  a  shop  could  easily  have  been  set  up  out 
of  the  result  of  her  labors.  Some  of  the  articles  were 
exhibited  to  him  with  a  sort  of  bashful  pride  by  Miss 
Mabel — the  gowns,  the  hats,  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
Some,  on  the  contrary,  were  deemed  too  intricate,  too 
ornate,  or  too  delicate  for  his  inspection,  and  when  he 
entered  the  sewing-room  unannounced  there  were 
stifled  screams,  and  a  sudden  cessation  of  labor,  while 
the  forms  of  the  two  women  were  placed  by  a  concerted 
action  between  him  and  the  woik  in  progress. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  103 

"We  shall  have  to  establish  a  rule,"  said  Mrs.  Moreyr 
one  day,  "  that  you  are  not  to  enter  this  room  without 
knocking.  " 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ? "  he  inquired,  with  a  smile. 

Fawcett's  face  always  wore  a  smile  during  this  period. 

"  I  would  not  mind,  myself,  "  said  Mrs.  Morey.  "  But 
you  can  see  how  confusing  it  might  be  to  Mabel  under 
some  circumstances  to  have  you  enter.  There  are 
many  garments  in  progress  of  manufacture  that  are  not 
supposed  to  be  seen  by  gentlemen." 

The  smile  on  the  young  man's  face  deepened. 

"And  yet  I  suppose  the  time  will  come  when  I 
shall  see  them  all,  "  said  he. 

What  was  it  that  brought  the  tears  to  the  mother's 
eyes  ?  She  had  done  all  she  could  to  further  this  mar- 
riage. She  would  not  have  undone  it  now,  had  she 
been  able.  Why  did  she  turn  from  him,  at  his  thought- 
less words,  and  pretend  to  busy  herself  over  the  work 
before  her,  stopping  furtively  to  press  her  handkerchief 
to  her  face  ? 

Business  went  on  just  the  same.  With  his  new  gay- 
ety  of  heart  Fawcett  did  not  forget  that  produce  was  to  be 
sold  for  others  on  commission,  and  that  he  had  nearly 
ten  thousand  dollars  that  would  eat  its  head  off,  as 
they  say  of  stalled  horses,  unless  invested.  He  bought 
with  caution  and  sold  when  he  thought  it  wise,  and  on  the 
whole  did  well.  Some  New  Yorkers  with  whom  he 
dealt  suggested  to  him  to  come  on  and  see  them.  They 
knew  that  he  was  young,  and  they  had  formed  a  very 
favorable  idea  of  his  ability.  One  concern,  Decker  & 
Co.,  threw  out  hints  that  he  might  be  received  into  part- 
nership if  terms  could  be  arranged.  He  wanted  to  see 
them,  but  he  could  not  leave  Mabel  just  yet.  He  could 
go  there  on  his  wedding-tour,  combining  pleasure  with 


104  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

something  that  might  prove  more  useful.  Yes,  he  would 
go  to  New  York  on  that  wonderful  journey  of  which 
he  thought  all  day  and  dreamed  every  night,  that  voyage 
compared  to  which  Captain  Cook's  and  Magellan's 
were  insignificant,  and  even  the  fabulous  trips  of  Jules 
Verne  not  worth  talking  about. 

He  would  spend  hours  in  the  dimly-lighted  parlor, 
with  Mabel's  hand  in  his,  talking,  talking,  talking. 
How  very  happy  they  would  always  be  together  !  Six 
weeks  more !  How  could  he  wait  six  weeks !  A 
month  ?  It  was  a  century !  The  date  could  have 
been  set  earlier,  and  it  should  have  been.  But  each 
day  made  one  less,  after  all,  and  when  but  a  week  re- 
mained between  him  and  his  bridal  hour  he  found  him- 
self a  little  frightened  at  its  close  proximity. 

Yes  !  He  used  to  sit  in  his  private  office,  with  his 
head  on  his  hand,  his  elbow  resting  on  the  desk.  It 
was  a  great  step  to  take,  this  step  of  marriage.  There 
was  a  responsibility  about  it  that  was  terrifying  when 
one  approached  it  so  nearly.  Supposing  things  should 
go  wrong  !  What  if  the  market  should  take  a  turn  to 
the  bad  and  everything  go  all  at  once  to  the  bow- 
wows !  There  he  would  be  with  a  double  expense  on 
his  hands,  for  in  those  days  he  ceased  to  believe  the 
stories  of  the  extraordinary  cheapness  with  which  a 
married  couple  could  live.  Five  days  more  and  it 
would  be  too  late  to  retrace  his  steps  ! 

Thoughts  of  closing  his  store  and  running  away 
came  into  his  head,  and  held  sway  there  for  hours  at 
a  time.  It  would  be  disreputable,  but  would  it  not  in 
the  end  prove  the  part  of  wisdom  ?  Ah,  yes !  He 
had  been  right  when  he  said  a  man  should  have  fifty 
thousand  dollars  and  be  forty  years  of  age  before  he 
perpetrated  such  a  folly. 


YO  UNO  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  i  ®$ 

He  told  Mabel  and  her  mother  that  evening  that  he 
had  a  violent  headache,  as  an  excuse  for  going  to  his 
room  and  staying  there.  Neither  of  them  believed 
this  statement  covered  the  whole  truth,  and  they  com- 
mented upon  the  matter  when  he  had  left  them. 

"  It  is  not  unusual  for  men  to  have  queer  spells  at 
such  a  time  as  this,"  said  the  wise  elder  lady.  "  I 
have  heard  of  them  being  so  ill  that  the  wedding  had 
to  be  postponed.  We  must  deal  very  gently  with  Mr. 
Fawcett  in  the  matter,  for  it  would  be  awkward  to  have 
anything  happen  now." 

"  Awkward !  "  echoed  Mabel.  "  It  would  be  out- 
rageous !  Don't  you  think  if  I  went  to  his  room  and 
bathed  his  head  it  would  be  a  good  thing  ?  " 

The  mother  did  not  agree  with  the  idea.  She  said 
it  was  best  to  leave  him  entirely  alone  for  the  present 
It  would  not  do  to  act  as  if  anything  was  suspected. 
She  did  not  know  that,  at  the  very  minute  she  was 
saying  this,  Fawcett  was  seriously  considering  whether 
to  tie  his  clothes  in  a  bundle  and  escape  by  the 
piazza  window,  or  she  might  have  changed  her  mind. 
But  he  did  not  carry  out  the  half-formed  plan.  He 
went  to  sleep  instead  and  awoke  in  the  morning  with 
the  thought  uppermost  that  he  would  have  been  an 
idiot  to  have  executed  the  scheme  in  his  head  when  he 
retired. 

"  I  am  all  right  now,"  he  said,  as  he  made  his  ap- 
pearance at  the  breakfast-table.  "I  think  I  must 
have  caught  cold  or  something  yesterday." 

He  made  all  his  preparations  to  be  gone  a  week  on 
his  wedding-trip.  It  was  with  positive  glee  that  he 
drew  $200  from  the  bank  to  take  with  him,  determined 
to  spare  no  expense  on  such  an  important  journey. 
What  was  $200  ?  He  made  it  in  one  day,  a  little  white 


106  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

previous,  by  a  rise  in  butter.  A  man  got  married  but 
once — at  least  once  at  a  time.  He  ought  to  do  the 
thing  up  in  a  proper  way. 

He  was  given  a  private  view  of  Mabel  in  her  wed- 
ding-dress and  afterwards  in  her  travelling  costume. 
Never  had  she  looked  so  lovely.  As  he  was  not  per- 
mitted to  hug  the  girl  for  fear  of  spoiling  her  clothes, 
he  did  the  next  best  thing.  He  hugged  himself  in  his 
delight. 

Was  there  a  man  in  all  this  world  with  whom  he 
would  exchange  places  ?  Not  one. 

The  marriage  was  t<r  ake  place  early  in  the  evening, 
in  the  presence  of  only  the  necessary  number  of  peo- 
ple. Neither  he  nor  Mabel  wanted  a  public  wedding. 
Neither  had  any  relations  in  the  town,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  it  would  be  foolish  to  send  for  those  at  a 
distance.  The  only  kin  of  hers  that  Allan  knew  were 
Mattie  Burbank  and  Frank  Selden,  and  he  was  very 
sure  he  did  not  wish  either  of  them  to  see  the 
ceremony.  He  did  not  even  want  Frank  to  know  of  it 
till  it  was  over,  as  he  had  a  half  fear  that  the  wealthy 
young  man  might  come  at  the  last  moment  and  snatch 
the  prize  from  his  grasp. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  last  thing  was 
done,  prior  to  the  actual  saying  of  the  words  that  were 
to  bind  them.  And  then,  at  that  late  hour,  Fawcett 
felt  a  sudden  giving  way  of  his  powers,  and  alarmed 
his  prospective  bride  and  her  mother  by  collapsing 
upon  the  sofa  in  the  sitting-room,  where  he  lay  white 
and  nearly  nerveless  for  an  hour. 

Appeals  of  Mabel  to  have  a  physician  summoned 
were  disregarded  by  Mrs.  Morey,  who  administered 
homely  remedies  that  she  had  in  the  house,  and  strove  by 
the  sympathy  of  her  ministrations  to  restore  the  young 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  iof 

man  to  his  normal  condition.  She  even  whispered  to 
her  daughter  to  leave  the  room  for  a  time,  so  that 
Allan  might  be  free  to  say  anything  he  chose  without 
the  restraint  of  her  presence.  The  poor  child,  over- 
come at  this  state  of  affairs,  went  to  her  chamber  and 
cried  heartily.  She  did  not  see  what  Allan  had  to 
trouble  him.  If  any  one  was  to  grow  faint  on  that  day 
it  ought,  in  all  reason,  to  be  herself. 

Heavens  1  How  thankful  she  would  be  when  the 
minister  had  done  his  work  !  And  do  it  he  should 
that  very  evening,  if  she  had  to  take  the  vows  while 
the  bridegroom  lay  where  he  then  was.  She  had  no 
faith  in  a  postponement.  If  her  mother  agreed  to  one 
she  would  raise  her  voice  in  protest.  There  was  such 
a  thing  as  going  too  far.  With  these  thoughts  she 
wiped  her  eyes  and  bathed  the  lids  in  camphor  water, 
and  put  on  a  determined  little  frown,  such  as  has  be- 
fore now  altered  the  fates  of  nations. 

Fawcett  said  many  things  to  Mrs.  Morey  during 
that  hour,  and  she  replied  with  great  wisdom  and 
diplomacy.  A  less  shrewd  woman  would  have  made  a 
mess  of  it,  but  she  carried  her  points,  one  by  one,  and 
came  out  wholly  victorious.  He  wanted  to  wait 
another  month  ;  he  did  not  feel  sufficiently  strong  to 
endure  the  railway  journey ;  he  feared  he  was  not 
good  enough  to  make  Mabel  happy ;  he  thought  he 
was  taking  too  great  a  responsibility  upon  himself ;  it 
was  better  for  both  of  them  that  a  little  more  time 
should  be  spent  in  thinking  on  these  important  things. 

At  every  turn  the  widow  met  him  wisely.  Long  be- 
fore the  time  for  the  clergyman  to  arrive  he  had  risen, 
and  arranged  his  disordered  hair,  showing  nothing  of 
what  he  had  passed  through  except  by  the  paleness 
that  still  whitened  his  countenance. 


leg  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  I  shall  not  get  into  that  state  again,"  he  said, 
smiling  at  his  nurse.  "  It  was  caused  by  a  reaction 
and  over-excitement.  Go  now,  Mrs.  Morey,  and  send 
Mabel  to  me." 

Instructed  to  the  fullest  extent  by  her  mother, 
Mabel  soon  made  her  appearance.  When  he  held  out 
his  arms  to  her,  she  hesitated  to  go  to  him. 

"  You  do  not  love  me,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Not  love  you !  My  darling !  In  another  hour 
you  will  be  my  wife ! " 

"  And  you  are  not  sorry  ?  " 

He  protested,  with  all  the  force  he  could  command, 
that  she  was  cruel  even  to  insinuate  such  a  thing.  He 
had  never  been  so  happy.  She  walked  slowly  toward 
him  and  let  him  draw  her  to  a  seat  by  his  side. 

"  I  don't  think  I  am  wise  enough  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
man  like  you,"  she  whispered.  "  I  know  so  very  little. 
Are  you  sure  you  will  not  scold  me  for  my  ignorance 
when  you  find  how  great  it  is  ? " 

He  exhausted  words  in  protesting  that  he  never  would 
speak  a  harsh  word  to  her  or  harbor  a  harsh  thought. 
He  would  always  love  her  for  the  sweetest,  dearest 
woman  on  earth. 

"  To-night,"  she  said,  "  I  leave  my  mamma,  to  give 
up  my  whole  life  to  you.  It  would  take  but  little  to 
break  my  heart,  Allan.  I  love  you  and " 

She  faltered,  feeling  that  she  was  going  beyond  the 
line  that  her  mother  would  have  considered  proper. 
The  feeling  was  intensified  a  second  later,  when,  in 
spite  of  her  resistance,  real  enough  this  time,  he 
pressed  his  lips  to  hers  in  a  passionate  kiss. 

"  If  I  ever  forget  my  duty  toward  you,"  he  exclaimed, 
«  may  I » 

She  stopped  him,  with  an  expression  of  alarm. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MAS  EL.  109 

"  Don't  put  it  in  that  way,"  she  replied.  "  You  can- 
not forget  it,  any  more  than  I  could  forget  mine  toward 
you.  And  now  I  must  go  to  put  on  my  gown,  for  the 
minister  will  soon  be  here." 

As  she  vanished,  with  a  bright  smile  thrown  back  at 
him,  he  felt  like  an  ordinary  mortal  who  had  been  m 
the  presence  of  a  saint. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 

THE  ceremony  was  as  simple  as  the  law  permits,  but 
how  stupendous  the  words  seemed  to  which  he  gave 
the  affirmative.  He  had  thought  more  than  once  that 
marriage  meant  all  it  ought  to  mean — that  two  people 
who  repeat  these  sacred  vows  are  barred  forever  from 
all  others — but  the  solemn  expression,  "  and  keep  your- 
self unto  her  as  long  as  ye  both  shall  live,"  was  weight- 
ier than  he  had  conceived.  His  face  was  very  grave 
as  he  answered,  and  his  hand  trembled  as  he  placed 
the  ring  on  Mabel's  finger.  With  that  act  he  cut  the 
cord  that  tied  his  boat  to  the  shore  and  let  it  drift 
away  on  the  sea  of  matrimony,  that  unknown  vast 
expanse  the  farther  shores  of  which  were  out  of  view ! 

Mabel  had  no  such  sentiments  as  these  in  her  pretty 
head.  It  was  enough  for  her  that  she  had  won  him  at 
last,  that  when  the  tiresome  minister  had  finished  she 
would  be  addressed  as  "  Mrs.  Allan  Fawcett."  The 
ring  on  her  finger  was  the  title-deed  to  the  property 
she  had  coveted  so  long.  She  had  wanted  to  be  a  wife, 
and  now  she  was  one.  Her  long  preparation  had  borne 
its  fruit.  Her  arduous  studies  were  to  be  rewarded  by 


lid  YOUNG  FAWCETT' S  MABEL. 

the  diploma — made  out  in  the  form  of  a  marriage  cer- 
tificate— that  would  show  how  well  she  had  done  hei 
task. 

Allan's  hand  trembled,  but  hers  was  firm.  It  is  often' 
er  the  case  that  bridegrooms  show  the  most  trepidation 
at  this  moment  than  most  people  believe.  Mabel  saw 
no  more  reason  why  she  should  exhibit  weakness  than 
if  the  clergyman  had  been  presenting  her  with  any 
other  valuable  piece  of  property.  As  for  a  pretence  of 
bashfulness,  the  time  for  that  was  past.  The  fish  was 
on  the  hook  and  could  not  get  away  now  if  he  tried. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  couple  were  to  go 
away  to  New  York  for  about  a  week  and  were  then  to 
take  up  housekeeping  by  themselves  at  Mrs.  Morey's, 
that  lady  having  accepted  an  invitation  to  make  a  visit 
to  her  sister,  Mrs.  Selden.  This  seemed  an  excellent 
plan,  as  everything  needed  was  at  hand,  and  Mabel 
could  have  a  chance  to  exhibit  her  capabilities  before 
Allan  went  to  the  expense  of  purchasing  furniture. 
Bridget  was  to  be  left  in  the  house,  but  Mrs.  Morey 
would  be  gone  when  the  wedded  pair  returned  from 
their  bridal  journey.  There  was  something  romantic 
in  the  plan,  and  it  pleased  Fawcett  well. 

The  parting  of  Mabel  and  her  mother  was  most  affec- 
tionate, but  neither  of  them  intended  to  allow  a  scene. 
They  well  knew  that  must  prove  disagreeable  to  Faw- 
cett, and  had  schooled  themselves  not  to  give  way 
unduly  to  their  emotions. 

The  wraps  were  put  on,  the  baggage  made  ready,  the 
carriage  taken  at  the  door,  and  presently  the  "  happy 
pair  "  were  riding  toward  the  station. 

Never  had  Fawcett  felt  such  a  sense  of  exultation 
as  when  the  carriage  door  closed  and  he  was  actually 
started  on  his  wedding-trip.  With  the  utmost  thought- 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  iy  1 

lessness  he  was  about  to  take  a  quick  embrace,  when 
Mabel  cautioned  him  that  the  curtains  were  up  and 
that  people  on  the  street  were  undoubtedly  watching. 
He  felt  an  instant's  pique  that  she  should  mention  so 
slight  a  matter  at  such  a  moment.  He  did  not  care  if 
every  person  in  Norwood  saw  him,  and  he  thought  her 
protest  ill-timed.  However,  he  said  nothing,  and  was 
rewarded  a  little  later  by  finding  her  hand  in  his, 
placed  there  of  her  own  accord,  and  even  giving  forth  a 
fascinating  little  pressure. 

"  I  think  the  whole  town  is  out,"  she  said,  as  they 
passed  a  group.  "  A  wedding  is  not  so  common  here 
that  one  ever  fails  to  attract  attention.  Some  of  them 
told  mamma  that  it  ought  to  be  in  the  church,  so  they 
all  could  come." 

A  new  sense  of  possession  came  over  him.  He  was 
the  sole  owner  of  this  sweet  creature  by  his  side.  The 
others  who  stood  there  impotently  on  the  sidewalks 
must  be  consumed  with  envy  when  they  thought  of  it. 
He  had  taken  out  of  the  village  the  prettiest  girl  in  it, 
and  his  rivals  had  not  even  an  opportunity  to  spy  upon 
him  when  he  did  the  deed. 

Fawcett  grew  in  the  stature  of  a  man  within  the  next 
five  minutes  more  than  he  had  grown  in  a  year  before. 
There  was  something  in  life  higher  than  the  selling  of 
grain,  something  dearer  than  the  accumulation  of  prop- 
erty. What  a  wonderful  thing  it  was,  this  joining  of 
a  man  to  a  woman,  that  they  twain  might  become  one 
flesh !  He  would  not  have  exchanged  places  with  a 
Vanderbilt  as  he  rode  in  that  hired  carriage  to  the  sta- 
tion, with  the  little  hand  of  his  wife — think  of  it ! — his 
wife,  in  his  own. 

At  the  station  there  was  an  unpleasant  occurrence. 
When  he  paid  the  driver  of  the  carriage  three  dollars 


1 1 2  YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

the  man  insisted  that  the  price  was  four.  It  was  cer 
tainly  aggravating.  Fawcett  had  taken  pains  to  ask 
the  driver's  employer  a  week  previous  and  had  been 
told  that  the  price  was  three  dollars.  He  had  no  idea 
of  allowing  any  one  to  swindle  him  and,  beside,  he  con- 
sidered it  a  piece  of  rascality  on  the  part  of  the  man, 
who  doubtless  thought  he  could  exact  the  extra  sum  on 
such  an  occasion,  and  that  his  passenger  would  pay 
rather  than  make  talk  where  people  were  listening. 

"  The  fare  is  three  dollars,"  said  Fawcett  icily.  "  I 
made  the  price  with  Mr.  Wyman." 

The  hackman  struggled  to  win  his  point,  for  he  felt 
that  he  also  had  a  reputation  to  sustain,  and  a  dozen 
people  gathered  near  by  to  witness  the  outcome  of 
this  peculiar  discussion. 

"  There  are  two  trunks,  which  are  fifty  cents  each," 
he  said. 

Fawcett  was  slightly  puzzled  by  this  suggestion. 
He  had  certainly  said  nothing  to  the  stable-keeper  about 
trunks,  but  he  had  an  idea  that  they  were  usually  in- 
cluded in  a  depot  fare. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  settle  the  matter  with  Mr.  Wyman 
when  I  return,"  said  he,  turning  away. 

"  He  told  me  to  collect  it,"  responded  the  man,  dog« 
gedly. 

Now,  while  it  was  literally  true  that  Mr.  Wyman  had 
told  the  man  to  collect  the  price  of  the  carriage,  he  had 
never  intended  that  he  should  do  it  in  this  manner. 
He  had  only  said  "  Yes,"  when  the  driver  asked  if  Mr. 
Fawcett  was  to  pay  at  the  station,  and  had  done  so 
from  the  fact  that  it  was  not  his  habit  to  put  such  mat- 
ters on  the  book,  except  with  regular  customers.  He 
knew  the  young  merchant  well,  and  would  hav«  gives 
him  credit  for  any  amount. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  1 13 

The  driver's  answer  angered  Fawcett  thoroughly. 
He  realized  to  some  extent  the  ridiculous  plight  he  had 
got  into,  and  he  was  more  determined  than  ever  not  to 
submit  to  extortion.  He  glanced  hastily  at  Mabel, 
who  stood  there  in  her  travelling  dress,  marked  unmis- 
takably as  a  bride,  even  to  the  three  or  four  strangers 
present.  A  bright  color  had  come  into  her  cheek, 
perceptible  through  the  thin  veil.  Allan  thought  with 
what  a  good  grace  he  could  have  dragged  the  obnoxious 
driver  from  his  seat  and  pummelled  him,  had  he  been 
alone. 

"  He  told  you  to  collect  it,  did  he  ?  "  he  repeated, 
with  rising  inflection.  "  Well,  you  tell  him  that  I  have 
three  thousand  dollars  on  deposit  in  the  First  National 
Bank,  which  he  can  attach  if  he  is  afraid  to  wait  a 
week.  I  shall  not  pay  you  now  at  any  rate." 

He  would  have  liked  to  say  much  more,  but  he  re- 
strained himself,  and  turning  away  took  Mabel  into  the 
ladies'  room.  Then,  with  a  word  expressive  of  his 
regret  at  the  incident,  he  went  to  get  the  trunks  checked 
for  Providence,  where  the  night  was  to  be  passed,  and 
to  buy  his  tickets. 

"  You  want  seats  in  the  Pullman,  also,  do  you  not  ?  " 
inquired  the  affable  agent,  who  knew  Fawcett  well  and 
also  the  fact  of  his  marriage  that  afternoon. 

Fawcett  hesitated  a  second.  He  had  never  ridden, 
as  a  passenger,  in  any  car  of  that  description.  It  was 
a  luxury  which  he  had  always  associated  with  very 
wealthy  or  very  extravagant  persons.  While  he  was 
deliberating  he  made  room  for  another  man,  who  was 
going  through  to  New  York,  and  who  bought  three 
Pullman  berths,  at  $2.50  each.  There  was  some  excuse 
for  such  a  case,  Allan  thought,  when  one  was  to  ride 
all  night,  but  just  to  Provident 


1 1 4  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  will  take  them,"  he  said,  put 
ting  down  the  money  for  the  regular  fare. 

The  agent  opened  his  eyes  a  little  wider,  but  gave 
no  other  sign  of  surprise,  and  handed  out  the  tickets. 
Allan  went  to  get  the  baggage  checked  and  then  re- 
turned to  his  bride. 

"  How  much  time  is  there  now  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Only  five  minutes,"  he  replied. 

"  And  you  have  attended  to  everything?  " 

"Yes." 

"  You  have  the  tickets  and  the  baggage  checks  ?  " 

He  showed  them  to  her  with  a  smile. 

"  And  the  Pullman  seats  ? " 

His  countenance  fell.  He  would  have  to  get  them 
now.  He  could  not  go  through  another  dispute. 

"  You  have  forgotten  them  ! "  cried  Mabel.  "  Well, 
there  is  yet  time ;  but  you  will  have  to  make  haste." 

He  went  back  to  the  ticket  window.  Half-a-dozen 
people  were  in  line,  and  they  were  in  no  hurry  to  get 
away,  it  seemed.  At  the  last  minute  he  was  again  at 
the  front,  and  telling  the  agent  that  he  guessed  he 
would  take  the  Pullman  checks,  after  all. 

"  How  much  are  they  ? "  he  asked,  as  they  were 
handed  to  him. 

"  One  dollar." 

He  put  down  a  two-dollar  bill  and  was  turning  away 
when  the  agent  called  to  him  to  take  his  change. 
Allan  had  understood  that  the  seats  were  a  dollar  ^ach. 
He  took  the  money  handed  to  him  with  a  feeling  of 
relief.  Only  fifty  cents  !  Had  he  known  that  he  would 
have  bought  them  in  the  first  place.  He  hastened 
back  to  Mabel,  as  the  train  rolled  up  to  the  depot,  and 
•oon  they  were  seated  in  the  car  and  off  on  their  road. 

"  Seats  in  these  cars  are  not  very  dear/'  he  said  to 


YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  1 1 5 

her,  as  they  left  Norwood  behind.  "They  are  only 
fifty  cents  from  here  to  Providence." 

And  these  were  the  first  words  he  had  to  address 
to  her,  as  she  left  the  village  1  Dollars  and  cents  ! 
Would  he  never  think  of  anything  else  ?  Yes,  he 
should.  She  would  take  that  out  of  him  in  time. 
Quietly  but  none  the  less  surely  she  would  teach  him 
to  give  up  his  sordid  views  and  learn  how  to  take  life 
like  a  gentleman. 

To  his  statement  about  the  cost  of  the  tickets  she 
only  replied  by  a  smile  that  indicated  nothing  of  what 
was  passing  in  her  mind.  They  were  both  silent  from 
then  until  the  conductor  passed  along.  People  in  the 
car  commented  among  themselves  on  the  fact  that  a 
bridal  couple  was  among  them,  and  one  young  girl 
blushed  at  something  a  young  man  in  her  party  said  to 
her  when  this  was  mentioned. 

Mabel  was  thinking  a  good  deal.  The  affair  of  the 
Pullman  tickets  had  made  an  impression  on  her  mind. 
She  knew  Allan  had  not  intended  to  get  them,  and 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  her  suggestion,  they  would  at 
this  moment  have  been  riding  toward  Providence  in 
the  ordinary  cars,  something  that  would  have  mortified 
her  to  the  utmost.  It  was  evident  that  she  would  have 
to  lead  him  as  gently  as  she  could  into  spending  a  little 
more  money  on  this  trip  than  he  meant  to  do,  if  it  was 
to  be  at  all  what  it  ought.  She  realized  that  it  would 
require  a  good  deal  of  judgment  to  accomplish  what 
she  desired  in  a  way  that  would  not  injure  his  amour 
propre,  and  that  each  molehill  of  expense  beyond  what 
he  had  decided  upon  would  seem  to  him  like  a  mountain. 

"  Of  course  you  haven't  written  or  telegraphed  for 
accommodations,"  she  suggested,  interrogatively,  when 
they  were  nearing  the  city. 


1 1 6  YO  UNG  FA  IVCE  TT  'S  MABEL. 

*  No.  The  Narragansett  is  a  large  hotel.  There 
will  be  plenty  of  rooms." 

"  I  think  so,"  she  answered,  "  but  they  may  not  be 
exactly  the  ones  to  suit.  You  know — there  are  nof 
many — bridal  suites — in  any  house." 

He  had  a  vague  idea  that  he  had  heard  of  such  things 
as  bridal  suites  before,  apartments  that  princes  and 
millionaires  occupied  when  on  their  wedding  journeys ; 
but  he  had  never  thought  of  such  quarters  in  connec- 
tion with  himself  and  this  little  woman. 

"  I — I  am  afraid,"  he  stammered,  "  that  the  rooms 
you  speak  of  are  much  too  expensive  for  a  purse  like 
mine.  They  probably  cost  very  dear." 

She  reached  across  the  seat  and  put  her  hand  in  his 
again. 

"  But  you  have  three  thousand  dollars  in  the  bank, 
Allan,  and  this  is  only  once  in  a  lifetime." 

When  the  hand  came  in  contact  with  his,  it  warped 
his  judgment  a  little,  but  he  tried  to  remain  firm. 

"  Remember,  my  dear,"  he  replied,  "  that  though  I 
have  that  sum  in  the  bank,  I  am  heavily  in  debt.  If 
you  will  deduct  from  the  $3,000  I  have  there  the  $5,000 
I  owe  Frank  Selden  you  will  see  that  there  is  not  much 
left." 

She  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  Then  she  re- 
minded him  of  what  he  had  told  her  a  few  days  before, 
about  his  recent  profits,  and  said  he  must  have  con- 
siderable stock  on  hand,  which  could  be  disposed  of 
for  money  at  any  time.  He  did  not  like  to  have  her 
take  up  this  line  of  argument,  for  he  considered  busi- 
ness matters  things  that  men  should  attend  to  exclu- 
sively, and  he  did  not  fancy,  either,  the  quiet  tone  she 
assumed,  as  she  tried  to  argue  with  him. 

**  *  must  be  the  judge  of  what  I  can  afford,  my  dear," 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  \\f 

he  said,  squeezing  the  hand  he  held.  "  I  will  get  a 
good  room,  never  fear  for  that." 

She  took  the  hand  from  him  suddenly. 

"  One  room  !  "  she  exclaimed.     "  Oh,  Allan  ! " 

For  an  instant  he  felt  like  a  scoundrel,  though  he  did 
not  know  why.  He  began  lamely  to  remind  her  that 
they  were  now  husband  and  wife,  and  that  it  was  not 
necessary  to  put  a  whole  row  of  chambers  between 
them,  but  she  turned  to  the  window  and  gave  no  sign 
that  she  heard.  He  grew  provoked  at  her  attitude. 
This  was  a  pleasant  beginning,  was  it  not  ?  He  went  on 
to  speak  of  the  matter,  as  he  had  begun,  repeating  what 
he  had  said  of  the  necessity  of  keeping  within  reason- 
able limits  in  expenses.  After  a  while  it  struck  him 
that  she  was  studiously  refraining  from  listening. 

"  Mabel,"  he  whispered,  stopping  short  in  his  con- 
versation. 

There  was  no  reply.  They  were  entering  the  city 
and  she  seemed  occupied  in  watching  the  sights  in  the 
dimly-lighted  streets. 

"Mabel!" 

This  time  he  spoke  sharply,  and  the  face  of  his  wife 
turned  toward  him. 

"  I  spoke  to  you  !  "  he  said  stiffly. 

"  I  beg  pardon  ;  what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  polite  for  you  to  turn  your  back  to  me  and 
look  out  of  the  window  when  I  am  talking,"  he  said 
loftily. 

"  Well,  I  am  listening  now." 

She  did  not  speak  like  a  two  hours'  bride,  but  her 
tone  was  subdued,  for  all  that.  She  had  herself  much 
better  in  hand  than  he. 

"  I  do  not  care  to  go  all  over  it  again,"  he  said,  feel- 
ing that  she  had  the  advantage.  "  The  locomotive  is 


j  i8  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TFS  MABEL. 

whistling  for  the  station  and  we  must  prepare  to  leare 
the  train." 

He  rose,  gathered  up  the  things  he  had  to  take,  and 
stood  in  the  aisle  along  with  the  other  passengers.  She 
sat  still,  knowing  that  nothing  would  be  gained  by  haste, 
and  that  it  would  be  some  seconds  before  the  train 
reached  a  full  stop.  Allan  construed  this  action  as  in- 
dicating more  of  her  rebellious  spirit,  and  repressed 
with  difficulty  his  inclination  to  say  something  harsh. 
In  plenty  of  time  to  leave  with  the  others,  Mabel  took 
her  place  in  the  aisle  with  him,  and  he  helped  her  to 
alight  from  the  car  steps  with  a  rather  dark  counte- 
nance. Accepting  the  offer  of  the  first  cabman  who  greet- 
ed him,  he  escorted  his  wife  to  the  carriage,  gave  the 
baggage  checks  to  the  driver,  and,  telling  Mabel  to  get 
in,  waited  until  he  saw  that  the  right  trunks  were 
strapped  on  behind  before  he  took  his  place  beside 
her. 

"  Is  the  hotel  far  from  here  ? "  she  asked  pleasantly, 
peering  into  the  street  as  they  rode  along. 

"  Not  very,"  he  replied  shortly.  He  could  not  get 
into  a  sweet  frame  of  mind  in  a  moment,  and  he  thought 
she  owed  him  an  apology  for  her  actions  of  a  few 
minutes  before. 

"I  have  heard  it  is  a  very  good  house,"  continued 
Mabel,  affecting  not  to  notice  anything  strange  in  hi» 
manner.  *'  Mamma  has  stopped  there." 

He  dismissed  the  cabman  without  a  dispute,  hardly 
knowing  how  much  change  he  got  back  from  the  five 
dollar  bill  he  tendered  him.  Taking  Mabel  to  the 
ladies'  parlor  he  sought  the  office. 

"  I  want  a  suite  of  rooms,"  he  said  to  the  clerk. 

The  clerk  had  "  sized  him  up,"  as  the  saying  is,  foi 
a  newly-married  man,  the  instant  he  set  eyes  on  him. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT*S  MABEL.  1 19 

But  when  he  heard  the  short,  sharp  tones,  he  tele- 
graphed an  inquiry  to  the  porter,  who  had  accompanied 
Fawcett  from  the  street  door.  The  answer  being  con- 
firmatory of  his  first  suspicion,  he  handed  the  guest 
a  pen  with  which  to  register,  and  looked  over  one 
of  those  large  cards  on  which  clerks  record  the  relative 
Condition  of  the  chambers. 

"  You  want  a  suite  with  a  bath,  I  presume  ? "  said 
the  clerk,  after  completing  his  inspection. 

Fawcett  glanced  up  quickly.  Why  the  devil  should 
the  man  ask  such  a  question  as  that !  Was  there  any- 
thing about  his  appearance  to  indicate  that  he  needed 
washing?  The  clerk  stood  there,  attentive  and  ex- 
pectant, and  the  idea  came  slowly  to  Allan  that  he 
might  be  making  a  fool  of  himself. 

"  What  is  the  price  ?  "  he  asked,  reddening, 

"  The  best  we  have  unoccupied,  a  suite  with  parlor, 
bed-room  and  bath-room,  is  ten  dollars  a  day." 

Well,  it  was  not  so  very  bad.  They  were  going 
to  remain  but  one  night  and  take  the  next  afternoon's 
train  for  New  York.  Allan  engaged  the  suite  without 
further  parley  and  went  with  a  bell-boy  to  take  Mabel 
to  it. 

When  the  trunks  were  brought  in,  and  he  had 
unlocked  them,  there  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  little  controversy  that  had 
arisen  on  the  train  Allan  would  probably  have  folded 
his  wife  in  his  arms  and  said  a  hundred  pretty  things 
to  her.  But  that  affair  was  still  rankling  in  his  brain, 
and  he  did  not  like  to  do  anything  in  which  his  heart 
was  not  a  full  partner.  So  he  only  said  it  was  get- 
ting late  and  he  would  go  into  the  parlor  so  as  not 
to  incommode  her.  Suiting  the  action  to  the  ward,  he 
closed  the  door  carefully  sifter 


130  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

Mabel  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  cry.  She 
thought  he  was  acting  shabbily,  but  the  resolve  she  had 
formed  to  teach  him  a  number  of  lessons  before 
he  was  many  days  older  helped  her  to  maintain  her 
dignity.  She  took  off  her  hat  at  the  mirror,  and 
removed  her  cloak  slowly.  Was  this  the  way  other 
men  acted  on  their  wedding  night  ?  She  did  not 
believe  it.  And  it  was  over  the  matter  of  a  few 
dollars  to  be  paid  for  the  rooms  they  were  to  occupy ! 
She  could  see  it  in  no  other  way.  It  was  all  on 
account  of  his  penurious  desire  to  save  a  cent  or  two  at 
a  time  when  he  ought  to  think  no  sum  too  great 
for  the  happiness  of  being  alone  with  her. 

She  knew  Fawcett  was  peculiar.  She  had  married 
him  with  her  eyes  fully  open  to  that  fact.  She  was  not 
at  all  sorry  that  she  was  his  wife.  She  would  not  have 
surrendered  that  position  for  any  other  of  which  she 
could  conceive.  Only,  she  did  wish  he  would  act 
a  little  different. 

But  it  was  rather  amusing,  and  after  a  little  while, 
Mabel  laughed  softly  to  herself.  Was  he  really  angry 
with  her,  she  wondered  ?  That  was  too  silly  to  think  of. 
She  would  stop  that  before  it  went  any  farther,  even  if 
it  was  necessary  to  give  in  a  little.  Allan  loved  her ; 
they  must  not  quarrel  so  soon  as  this.  In  this  frame  of 
mind  she  waited  until  he  came. 

Then  she  forgot  every  instruction.  She  opened  her 
fair,  round  arms  and  took  his  face  between  them 
and  kissed  him  on  the  mouth. 

He  had  anticipated  anything  but  this,  and  in  a  sec- 
ond all  the  clouds  that  had  gathered  disappeared, 
leaving  the  cerulean  sky,  lit  by  countless  stars  and 
a  great  pale  moon ! 

Good  heaven  1  Had  he  harbored  such  hard  thoughts 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  131 

m  reference  to  this  angelic  being,  and  on  such  an 
inopportune  occasion  ?  Never,  never,  would  he  repeat 
it !  She  was  his  to  love  and  cherish ;  to  treat  like 
a  wife,  not  like  a  child. 

"  Mabel,"  he  began,  as  soon  as  she  would  let  him, 
"  I  was  wrong  to-night.  Forgive " 

But  the  sweet  lips  touched  his  again,  and  the  sen- 
tence remained  unfinished. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
"DON'T  SPEAK  TO  MB!" 

OF  all  the  ties  that  are  known  to  men,  marriage  in 
civilized  lands  is  certainly  the  strangest.  It  presumes 
that  two  persons,  whose  tastes  and  ideas  are  frequent- 
ly as  opposite  as  their  sexes,  are  to  be  suddenly 
endowed  with  similar  opinions  on  the  most  important 
subjects,  and  view  life  through  glasses  colored  with 
the  same  brilliancy.  There  is  no  contract  in  which  so 
much  is  demanded,  none  in  which  disagreement  be- 
tween the  partners  is  so  disastrous,  none  in  which  it 
is  so  likely  to  occur.  And  yet  marriages  continue  to  be 
made,  and,  more  wonderful  still,  are  found  in  a  certain 
number  of  cases  sources  of  comfort  and  pleasure. 

I  have  an  opinion,  though  I  admit  that  the  data  is 
necessarily  incomplete,  that  in  the  majority  of  instances 
there  occurs  a  time,  somewhere  within  the  first  three 
months,  when  one  or  both  of  the  interested  parties 
would  be  very  willing,  if  it  could  be  done  without  scan- 
dal, to  sever  the  tie  they  have  formed.  In  saying  this, 
I  ought  and  intend  to  add  that  such  persons,  in 
millions  of  cases,  grow  eventually  to  understand  each 


1M  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

other  better,  and  are  shocked  at  the  recollection  o4 
their  former  wish  to  separate. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allan  Fawcett  thought  the  first  week 
of  their  married  life  a  dream.  Allan  paid  the  expenses 
that  he  had  dreaded  without  a  murmur,  even  with  ex- 
ultation. Mabel  concluded  that  she  had  misjudged 
him  in  some  important  points,  and  said  to  herself  that 
he  was  the  dearest  man  on  earth.  In  a  letter  which 
she  wrote  to  her  mother  from  New  York  she  declared 
that  the  only  perfect  happiness  was  to  be  found  in 
the  matrimonial  state.  She  thought  so,  and  Allan 
thought  so,  for  a  whole  week  after  the  reverend  minis- 
ter of  the  Gospel  had  given  them  permission  to  find  out. 

But  on  the  very  first  morning  after  their  return 
to  Norwood  everything  seemed  to  go  wrong.  The 
breakfast  was  half  an  hour  late,  and  Allan  fumed, 
because  he  wanted  particularly  on  that  morning  to  get 
to  his  office  early  and  see  what  had  happened  to 
his  business  during  the  first  long  vacation  he  had  ever 
taken  from  it.  Bridget  was  unused  to  having  the  whole 
responsibility  thrown  on  her  shoulders,  and  did  not 
relish  being  ordered  about  by  the  little  girl  she 
had  never  till  now  had  as  a  mistress.  The  meal  was 
eaten  in  silence,  and  though  Allan  went  to  his  wife's 
side  and  gave  her  a  kiss  as  he  left  the  house,  it  was  of 
the  perfunctory  order — the  kind  of  kiss  that  might 
about  as  well  be  omitted.  He  thought  it  very  wrong 
of  her  to  permit  household  affairs  to  trouble  him, 
when  they  were  the  only  things  she  had  to  attend 
to.  She  was  equally  sure  that  an  hour  more  or  less 
would  have  no  effect  on  his  affairs,  and  that  it  was 
brutal  of  him  to  look  and  act  as  he  did  when  Bridget 
was  in  the  room.  It  was  a  part  of  her  make-up. 
kower*i;  that  things  of  this  kind  rested  less  heavily  on 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  123 

her  than  they  did  on  him,  and  she  went  about  her  work 
without  feeling  serious  depression.  He,  on  the  con- 
trary, had  a  weight  on  his  heart  all  the  morning  and 
was  inclined  to  be  pessimistic. 

The  market  had  not  gone  to  suit  him,  that  was 
certain.  As  near  as  he  could  figure  it  out,  he  was  a 
poorer  man  than  he  was  a  week  before,  not  counting 
the  hundred  and  sixty  dollars  he  had  parted  with  on 
his  journey.  But  had  the  accounts  showed  a  large  profit 
they  would  not  have  removed  the  cloud  from  his  face. 
He  believed  the  trouble  at  his  home  might  take  a  long 
time  to  arrange.  He  had  distinctly  told  Mabel  an 
hour  before  she  rose  that  it  was  time  to  do  so.  He 
had  expressed  his  disbelief  in  the  capacity  of  Bridget 
to  get  the  breakfast  on  the  table  in  the  right  con- 
dition and  at  the  proper  moment.  To  this  Mabel  had 
given  dilatory  replies,  and  had  only  put  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  nestled  closer.  Was  that  the  way 
to  act,  when  important  business  was  at  stake  ?  She 
had  had  a  week  of  coddling  and  kissing,  now  it  was 
time  to  think  of  something  with  more  sense  in  it.  He 
meant  to  have  things  his  way,  but  he  dreaded  the  ordeal 
that  it  might  be  necessary  to  go  through  before  things 
were  arranged. 

And  Mabel,  she  meant  to  have  things  her  way,  too. 

For  the  next  three  days  the  meals  were  nearly  on 
time,  but  never  exactly  so.  Allan  would  walk  into  the 
dining-room  when  the  clock  struck  and  sit  down  to  the 
table,  putting  his  napkin  on,  and  beginning  to  handle 
his  knife  and  fork  as  if  he  expected  to  carve  the  air 
in  case  nothing  more  substantial  presented  itself.  He 
would  do  this  even  at  night,  when  all  prete.  •&  of  bun- 
ness  needs  were  over,  and  Mabel  did  not  hasten  tht 
preparations  a  second  on  account  of  hie 


1 24  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

"  Why  don't  you  have  supper  on  the  table  at  half-pabi 
six  ? "  he  asked,  one  evening.  "  That  is  the  time  set  for 
it,  and  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  this  everlasting 
delay." 

"  You  are  not  going  out  again,"  she  replied,  "  and  a 
few  minutes  makes  no  difference.  The  biscuit  are  not 
quite  ready." 

He  fidgeted  in  his  chair. 

"  The  only  way  to  do  things  is  to  do  them  according 
to  rule,"  he  said.  "  If  you  want  supper  every  night  at  a 
quarter  to  seven  say  so,  and  we  will  call  that  the  hour. 
Bridget  has  all  the  afternoon  to  cook  her  biscuit.  The 
trouble  is,  you  do  not  go  out  into  the  kitchen  and  see 
that  she  goes  by  the  clock.  When  your  mother  was 
here  things  were  not  this  way.  I  never  knew  her  to 
have  to  make  an  apology  for  a  late  meal." 

The  biscuits  were  brought  in  at  this  juncture  and  the 
conversation  temporarily  ceased.  But  in  the  morning  it 
began  again.  It  was  quite  twenty  minutes  that  Fawcett 
»at  in  his  place  after  the  hands  of  the  clock  pointed  to 
the  breakfast  hour  before  the  eggs  and  coffee  made 
their  appearance. 

"  I  can't  have  this,  day  after  day ! "  he  expostulated, 
as  he  broke  his  eggs  into  a  glass.  "  No  one  need  tell 
me  that  there  is  any  great  science  in  the  boiling  of  a 
couple  of  eggs  or  a  quart  of  coffee  that  it  need  keep  me 
waiting." 

"  The  trouble  was,"  explained  his  wife,  "  there  were 
no  eggs  in  the  house.  We  had  to  send  one  of  the 
neighbor's  boys  to  the  store  for  them." 

Fawcett  stopped  in  the  act  of  lifting  his  coffee-cup 
to  his  mouth. 

"  How  long  do  you  think  a  man  would  make  a  living 
if  he  managed  things  that  way?  "  he  inquired.  "  You 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  125 

ought  to  have  known  last  night  whether  there  were  any 
eggs,  if  that  was  what  you  intended  for  breakfast.  I 
think  if  you  looked  into  your  pantry  a  little  oftener  it 
would  be  a  good  idea.  I  have  not  had  one  meal  on 
time  since  we  came  home,  and  I  am  tired  of  it !  " 

His  tone  was  anything  but  pleasant  as  he  said  this, 
and  Mabel  bit  her  lip  with  vexation.  He  had  no  right 
to  speak  to  her  like  that.  She  quickly  resolved  that 
she  would  return  sarcasm  for  severity. 

"  If  you  are  in  a  hurry,"  she  suggested,  "  why  don't 
you  eat,  now  you  have  the  breakfast  ?  You  have  done 
nothing  but  talk  ever  since  it  was  brought  in.'* 

Fawcett  put  his  spoon  down  abruptly  as  he  was  about 
to  dip  it  into  the  egg-glass.  He  pushed  his  chair  back 
from  the  table,  said  "  Well !  "  in  a  loud  tone,  and 
checked  himself  before  adding  what  he  evidently  in- 
tended when  he  began.  Then,  rising,  he  walked  into 
the  hall,  took  his  hat  and  overcoat  from  the  rack  and 
left  the  house. 

For  three  or  four  minutes  he  walked  rapidly.  He 
was  considerably  excited.  She  had,  it  seemed  to  him, 
insulted  him  deliberately.  When  a  woman  could 
address  such  words  to  a  man  to  whom  she  had  been 
married  but  a  fortnight,  what  might  he  expect  later  on  ? 
But  with  the  reflections  of  his  wounded  vanity  there 
came  also  a  great  wave  of  pain.  He  seemed  to  be 
losing  her — seemed  to  see  her  drifting  away  from  him ! 

He  stopped  in  the  road,  kicked  the  snow  a  minute 
with  his  foot  and  then  turned  around.  To  an  acquaint- 
ance that  he  met  he  said  he  had  forgotten  something 
at  the  house.  He  hastened  back  at  a  faster  gait  than 
he  had  taken  on  his  way.  Yes,  he  must  know  the  end 
of  this.  He  would  talk  to  Mabel,  kindly  and  firmly, 
and  see  if  something  could  not  be  done. 


j  »6  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

She  was  on  the  second  floor,  airing  the  bed  in  which 
they  had  slept.  She  heard  him  coming  up  the  stairs, 
but  did  not  turn  her  head  as  he  entered  the  chamber. 

«*  Mabel,"  he  said,  gently. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me ! "  she  answered,  in  a  passionate 
voice.  "  When  you  want  to  be  so  cross  why  don't  you 
wait  till  you  get  to  your  office  ?  I  haven't  done  a  thing 
to  suit  you  since  we  were  married.  Why  did  you  come 
back  ?  Was  it  to  scold  and  find  fault  about  something 
else?" 

She  looked  so  pretty,  and  she  seemed  so  sad,  that 
his  anger  evaporated  completely.  He  went  to  her,  put 
his  arm  around  her  waist  and  drew  her  slightly-resisting 
figure  to  a  seat  on  a  little  tete-a-tete  beside  him. 

"  You  had  better  go — you  are  in  such  a  hurry,  you 
know,"  she  persisted.  "  Something  will  happen  at  the 
office  if  you  are  five  minutes  late." 

He  tried  to  turn  her  face  so  that  she  would  look  at 
him,  but  she  shut  her  eyes  resolutely. 

"Mabel,"  he  answered,  "there  is  business  right 
here  of  more  importance  to  me  than  that  at  the  office. 
I  want  to  know  if  we  are  to  have  these  quarrels  every 
day.  If  we  cannot  live  together  peaceably,  we  ought 
to  separate  at  once." 

She  shuddered  at  the  suggestion,  and  he  felt  the 
shiver  in  the  arm  that  was  still  about  her.  She  would 
have  endured  anything  rather  than  have  relinquished 
her  title  of  his  wife. 

•'  Don't  talk  foolishly,"  she  said.  "  The  whole  trouble 
is  with  you.  You  know  I  am  young  and  never  had 
charge  of  a  house  before,  and  you  expect  me  to  know 
everything  like  an  experienced  woman.  Just  on 
account  of  a  few  minutes'  time  in  your  meals  you  have 
acted  like  a  bear  for  a  week.  I  do  the  best  I  can, 


YOUNS  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  i*y 

Bridget  does  not  like  to  have  me  come  into  the  kitchen 
as  much  as  I  do.  She  spoke  to  me  yesterday  as  ugly 
as  she  could." 

Mr.  Fawcett  sat  upright  on  the  tdte-d-tftc.  He  was 
much  moved. 

"Bridget  spoke  cross  ioyouJ"  he  repeated,  with  a 
rising  inflection.  "  I  will  go  and  give  her  a  week's 
notice  this  moment ! " 

It  is  considered  by  many  husbands  a  direct  and  un- 
pardonable infringement  on  their  exclusive  privileges 
when  any  other  person  uses  impolite  language  to  their 
wives. 

"  No,  don't  do  that,"  cried  Mabel,  rather  alarmed  to 
think  of  the  house  on  her  hands  without  this  long-time 
retainer.  "  She  knows  you  are  dissatisfied,  and  she 
thinks  it  unreasonable,  and  she  is  quick-tempered; 
but  it  will  come  out  all  right." 

Still  convinced  that  Miss  Bridget  ought  to  be  dis- 
charged summarily,  Fawcett  inquired  loftily  how  that 
young  woman  knew  that  he  was  dissatisfied.  He  was 
sure  he  had  never  exchanged  a  word  with  her. 

"  No,  dear,'*  explained  Mabel,  touched  by  his 
defence  of  her  from  the  maid-of-all-work,  "  you  haven't 
spoken  to  her,  but  she  can't  help  seeing  the  wrinkles 
on  your  forehead  when  she  comes  into  the  dining- 
room.  You  don't  know  how  very  thick  they  are  some- 
times. And  it  is  over  such  little  things,  too  !  Yester- 
day noon,  when  the  dinner  was  only  six  minutes 
behind  time,  you  looked  furious.  I  wish  you  would 
try  to  act  a  little  better  till  I  can  get  things  going 
right." 

He  saw  that  she  had  made  him  out  entirely  in  the 
wrong,  and  perhaps  he  had  been  partly  so.  At  any 
rate,  he  was  relieved  when  she  called  him  "  dear,"  and 


1*8  YOWG  FAWCETT'S  It  ABEL. 

he  was  very  glad  he  had  not  gone  to  the  office  with  the 
misunderstanding  on  his  mind. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he,  "  we'll  talk  it  over  again  this 
noon.  I  don't  think  either  of  us  means  to  do  unpleas- 
ant things, — I'm  sure  /don't, — but  we  haven't  got  used 
to  each  other  yet.  I  couldn't  stay  down  town  all  th« 
morning  and  think  of  you  unhappy." 

The  glad  smile  that  came  over  her  face  repaid  him 
for  those  words,  and,  taking  a  liberal  allowance  of 
kisses,  which  she  gave  him  with  unconstraint,  Allan 
started  again  for  his  office,  this  time  as  happy  as  a 
young  husband  ought  to  be.  He  walked  briskly 
through  the  snow,  and  though  the  first  letter  he  opened 
told  him  of  a  failure  by  which  he  would  lose  nearly  a 
hundred  dollars,  he  did  not  mind  it  in  the  least.  He 
went  on  opening  the  rest  of  his  mail,  with  the  smile 
still  on  his  face  that  he  had  brought  from  the  little 
house  over  the  hill. 

'"  His  clerks  remarked  to  each  other  that  something 
particularly  agreeable  must  have  happened  that  morn- 
ing at  the  residence  of  the  "  old  man,"  as  they  irrev- 
erently called  him  behind  his  back,  and  various  sly 
insinuations  as  to  its  probable  character  were  bandied 
about.  He  had  been  hateful  enough,  goodness  knew, 
for  a  number  of  days  past.  Well,  married  people 
would  have  their  little  difficulties,  and  if  Fawcett  had 
got  over  his,  why,  it  was  all  the  better. 


YOUNG  FA  WCSTT'S  MABSL.  149 


CHAPTER  XII. 
A  HUSBAND'S  THOUGHTLESSNESS. 

BUT,  unfortunately,  he  had  not  got  over  all  of  them. 
He  committed  the  great  error,  the  next  time  a  meal 
was  late — and  some  days  elapsed,  be  it  said,  in  justice, 
before  this  happened— of  walking  into  the  kitchen  and 
personally  expostulating  with  Bridget  over  the  matter. 

"  What's  up  now  ? "  he  demanded.  "  Why  isn't  the 
dinner  on  the  table  ? " 

"  The  market  man  has  only  just  brought  the  steak," 
said  the  girl,  with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

"  It's  devilish  queer,"  he  retorted,  "  that  he  always 
brought  it  on  time  when  Mrs.  Morey  was  here.  You 
ought  to  keep  something  on  hand,  in  case  of  an 
accident  like  that.  There  is  no  need,  especially  at  this 
time  of  year,  of  buying  exactly  enough  for  a  meal.  A 
ham  hung  up  in  the  shed,  or  a  piece  of  corned  beef  set 
away  cold,  would  provide  for  such  an  emergency." 

"  Tell  Miss  Mabel,  then,"  replied  Bridget,  in  a  surly 
tone.  She  had  never  been  brought  to  call  her  late 
mistress'  daughter  by  her  new  name,  "/doesn't  do 
the  buying,  sor ! " 

There  was  so  much  truth  in  this  that  Fawcett  said 
no  more.  He  had  evidently  been  blaming  the  wrong 
person.  He  went  back  to  the  dining-room  and  waited 
with  impatience  till  the  steak  appeared.  That  night 
when  he  came  home  he  found  Mabel  toasting  bread 
•ver  the  stove. 
9 


1£*  TQUNV  PA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

"This  isn't  Thursday,"  he  said,  in  astonishment 
"  How  is  it  that  silly  girl  is  out  again  ? " 

"She's  left  for  good,"  replied  Mrs.  Fawcett,  com- 
posedly. 

"Left!" 

"  Yes,  bag  and  baggage." 

"Without  notice?" 

Mabel  bowed  in  the  affirmative,  as  she  shook  the 
toasted  bread  from  the  wires. 

"  She  won't  get  any  advance  wages,  I  can  tell  her 
thatl"  said  Fawcett,  angrily.  "What  was  the 
matter  ? " 

"  She  said  she  didn't  care  to  stay  in  a  house  where 
the  man  came  into  the  kitchen  and  swore  at  her.  You 
paid  her  last  night,  you  know,  and  she  '  threw  in ' 
to-day's  work.  She  doesn't  ask  any  advance  pay. 
She's  gone  at  once  to  Mrs.  Cotton's,  on  Austin  Street, 
where  she  is  to  get  a  dollar  more  a  week." 

Fawcett  listened  with  growing  indignation. 

"  She  can  go  to  the  devil,  for  all  of  me  !  '*  he  ex- 
claimed. "  She's  the  nearest  to  a  born  fool  of  any  hu- 
man being  I  ever  knew.  Says  I  swore  at  her,  eh  ?  If  she 
repeats  that  anywhere  in  the  town  I'll  have  her  arrest- 
ed for  slander.  I  wanted  to  swear  at  her  badly 
enough,  but  I  didn't  do  it.  I  can  get  a  better  girl  than 
•he  was  any  day  in  the  week,  and  I'll  send  one  up  in 
the  morning." 

Mabel  was  buttering  the  toast,  but  she  stopped  to 
ask  him  not  to  do  anything  of  the  kind. 

"  I  want  to  try  a  little  while  to  do  my  work  alone," 
*he  said.  "  It  seems  foolish  to  keep  a  girl  for  just  we 
two.  I  can  do  better  by  myself,  I  am  almost  sure.  At 
any  rate,  I  don't  want  another  who  will  act  as  if  she 
fcired  me  instead  of  I  her.  Will  you  take  that  tea-pot 


Y9UNG  FA  WCETT'S  MAJML.  *}t 

when  you  go  along,  and  that  will  make  supper  aft 
ready?" 

With  the  thoughtlessness  of  a  man  the  husband  at- 
tempted to  comply  with  this  request  without  using  a 
holder,  and  the  result  was  that  he  burned  his  hand,  and 
yelled  out  a  mixture  of  profanity  that  was  quite  startling. 

"  The  d d  thing  is  hot  as  sheol  1 "  he  cried,  rub- 
bing the  palm  that  had  grasped  the  handle. 

"  You  should  take  something  in  your  hand,"  was  tht 
quiet  reply  of  Mabel,  who  considered  it  very  odd  that 
that  any  one  should  have  to  be  told  a  simple  thing  like 
that. 

"How  should  I  know?"  asked  Allan,  snappishly. 
"  It  was  your  business  to  tell  me." 

Mabel  took  her  apron,  and  doubling  its  folds,  brought 
the  unlucky  piece  of  culinary  ware  in  triumph  to  tht 
table. 

"  If  I  asked  you  to  get  some  coals  out  of  the  stove, 
would  you  take  a  shovel  or  your  fingers  ?  "  she  said,  as 
an  illustration. 

"  I  might  take  the  tongs,"  was  his  rejoinder. 

She  smiled  at  him  good-naturedly,  refusing  this  time 
to  be  drawn  into  a  quarrel.  She  had  actually  got  a  meal 
alone !  She  was  quite  proud  of  the  achievement.  The 
toast  was  good — Bridget  had  made  the  bread — and 
brewing  tea  was  a  simple  affair.  The  preserves  were 
some  that  her  mother  put  up  in  the  summer.  The  cake 
was  also  a  reminder  of  the  lost  cook. 

"  I  am  sorry  about  your  hand,"  she  said,  with  sympa- 
thy, seeing  that  he  still  "  favored  "  it.  "  But  you  must 
congratulate  me  on  the  supper.  I'm  sure  it's  all  good, 
and — why,  look  at  the  clock ! — it's  actually  five  whole 
minutes  ahead  of  time  ! " 

Thus  coaxed  into  good  humor  Fawcett  forgot  the  Iraafe 


jj2  YOUNG  FAWCETrS  MABEL. 

and  when  the  meal  was  ended  he  went  back  to  the 
kitchen  with  Mabel,  in  a  spirit  of  fun,  and  was  taught 
how  to  wipe  the  dishes.  With  the  exception  of  the 
fact  that  he  broke  one  by  setting  it  down  too  hard,  he 
did  very  well,  and  began  to  be  rather  glad  that  Bridget 
had  left  the  house. 

Then  he  had  as  nice  an  evening  with  his  wife  as  he 
could  wish.  They  sat  in  the  parlor,  acting  a  good  deal 
as  they  had  done  in  the  last  days  of  their  ante-nuptial 
courtship.  When  he  closed  his  eyes  that  night  he  held 
her  hand  in  his  and  thought  of  the  time  he  was  sick 
and  she  sat  so  still  by  his  bedside  for  fear  of  waking 
him.  Raising  himself  on  one  elbow  he  looked  at  the 
sweet  face  on  the  opposite  pillow  and  pressed  a  soft 
kiss  on  the  cheek.  Was  there  any  happiness  in  the 
gift  of  Heaven  equal  to  that  of  being  the  husband  of 
such  a  wife  ? 

The  next  noon  there  was  scrambled  eggs  for  dinner, 
and  when  he  looked  inquiringly  from  the  dish  to 
Mabel,  she  reminded  him  that  he  had  promised  to  send 
up  a  beef-roast  and  had  evidently  forgotten  to  do  so. 

"  Gracious  goodness ! "  he  replied.  "  You  mustn't  de- 
pend on  me  for  such  things  as  that.  I  have  something 
of  more  importance  to  attend  to.  We  will  have  the 
market-man  and  grocer  call  every  day  to  take  orders." 

"  You  said  you  would  attend  to  it,  and  I  kept  sup- 
posing it  would  come,"  was  her  answer.  "  If  any  one 
is  to  blame  it  is  yourself." 

From  that  a  long  argument  grew  up,  ending  in 
Yawcett's  going  to  the  office  without  kissing  her  good- 
bye, and  this  time  he  did  not  come  back  to  do  it, 
either.  At  night  he  ate  his  supper  in  sullen  silence — 
her  first  biscuits  were  not  a  shining  success — and  went 
down  to  his  office  to  do  some  work.  When  he  came 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  133 

home  he  threw  open  the  window  of  their  bedroom,  da 
claring  that  the  temperature  would  suffocate  a  sala- 
mander 

"  You  do  nothing  but  complain,"  said  Mabel,  from 
between  the  sheets.  "  If  it  was  not  the  furnace  it 
would  be  something  else.  You  can't  lay  that  to  me,  at 
any  rate,  for  you  put  in  the  coal  yourself." 

He  sighed  deeply. 

"  And  because  I  put  in  the  coal  you  must  go  to  bed 
leaving  the  drafts  on  and  the  register  open  I " 

"  It's  not  too  warm  for  me  /  If  you  don't  close  that 
window  I  shall  freeze." 

"  All  right !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I'll  close  it ;  and  you 
can  roast  here  if  you  want  to.  I'm  going  down  to  see 
that  the  furnace  doesn't  set  the  house  on  fire,  and  then 
I'll  go  into  another  room  to  sleep,  where  there  is  a 
breath  of  air  that  won't  stifle  one." 

She  heard  him  rummaging  at  the  furnace,  and  then 
ascending  the  stairs,  and  finally  the  door  of  the  other 
bedroom  closing  behind  him.  The  last  act,  which  she 
had  not  believed  he  would  perpetrate,  annoyed  her  ex- 
ceedingly. If  there  was  any  right  which  she  supposed  in- 
disputable  in  her  married  relation  it  was  to  the  presence 
of  her  husband.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had  committed 
open  infidelity  and  avowed  it  to  her  face  I  She  had 
never  dept  so  nearly  alone.  Her  room  joined  her 
mother's,  and  the  door  between  them  had  never  been 
closed. 

She  was  a  little  afraid  to  be  left  by  herself  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night.  Allan  was  a  brute  to  shut  him- 
self away  from  her  in  that  way.  Perhaps  he  would 
return.  An  hour  passed  and  he  did  not,  and  quite 
unable  to  sleep  from  nervousness  she  rose  and,  stifling 
her  pride,  wept  softly  to  his  door. 


IJ4  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABRL. 

He  was  not  asleep,  either,  though  he  pretended  to  be 
when  he  heard  her  step,  and  as  she  spoke  his  name  he 
opened  hL  eyes  languidly. 

"Allan?" 

"Yes,  Mabel" 

"I  think  I  heard  a  noise  downstairs.  You  don't 
suppose  there  is  a  man  there,  do  you  ? " 

He  could  hardly  keep  from  laughing  at  her  ingenious 
Stratagem,  for  he  knew  if  there  had  been  any  noise  he 
would  have  heard  it  as  well  as  she. 

"You've  been  dreaming,  I  guess,"  he  answered. 
"Burglars  choose  better  houses  than  this  for  their 
work.  If  they  are  down  there  they  won't  get  much. 
Better  -  T  back  to  bed." 

She  lingered  by  the  door.  He  could  see  her  white 
outline  by  the  light  that  came  in  at  the  window. 

"  The — the  room  is  cool  now,"  she  stammered. 

Ah  1     He  had  won  the  victory ! 

"You  can  sleep  here  if  you  like,"  he  said,  magnani- 
mously, making  room  for  her. 

"  The  other  bed  is  much  the  best." 

"No,  I  don't  think  so.  I  never  slept  on  feathers 
before,  and  I've  been  wanting  to  change  for  a  long 
time.  This  is  my  hair  mattress,  you  know,  and  it 
seems  like  old  times  to  have  it  under  me  again." 

She  stood  there,  hesitating.  She  did  not  want  to 
give  in  too  much,  and  yet  she  did  not  mean  to  go  off 
alone. 

"  I  have  always  slept  on  feathers,"  she  stammered. 

"  And  I  always  on  hair  until  the  past  two  weeks." 

"  You  found  the  feathers  nice  enough  until  you  got 
so  cross,"  she  pouted. 

**  I  endured  them,  but  I  never  liked  them.  It  Is  all 
right  You  take  the  room  that  suits  you  best,  and  PB 


VOU&Q  FA  WC&TT'S  MABEL.  1^5 

do  the  same.  It  is  said  by  the  best  authorities  thaf 
two  people  should  never  sleep  together,  anyway.  Good- 
night." 

Never  sleep  together  I  Never  I  She  was  possessed 
of  a  sudden  fright  that  set  her  teeth  to  chattering.  She 
crept  slowly  toward  the  bed. 

"  I  will  stay  here  to-night,  then,"  she  said,  "  and  to- 
morrow night  perhaps  you " 

"Will  stay  here." 

He  finished  the  sentence  for  her.  Now  that  he  had 
forced  the  fortress  to  capitulate  he  did  not  intend  to  let 
her  carry  off  even  her  side-arms. 

She  crept  into  the  bed,  all  of  a  shiver  from  the  cold, 
for  the  room  had  no  register  on,  and  the  mercury  stood 
far  below  freezing  outside  the  house.  Overcome  \vith 
momentary  contrition  Fawcett  drew  her  to  him  and 
warmed  her  in  his  arms.  She  permitted  this,  though 
she  did  not  encourage  it.  For  the  time  she  was  quite 
cowed  by  the  events  of  the  night.  Soon  they  bot!  fell 
asleep.  Their  faces  looked  peaceful  enough,  but  a 
wrench  had  been  given  to  Mabel's  love  that  could  not 
be  easily  repaired. 

In  the  morning  she  was  awake  before  him  and  slipped 
out  unobserved,  so  as  to  bui'.d  the  fire  and  get  the 
breakfast.  When  he  awoke  he  thought  she  had  only 
gone  to  the  other  bed  and  went  in  there  to  tell  her  it 
was  time  to  rise.  Seeing  that  she  was  not  there  he  had 
a  little  shock.  Could  she  have  taken  his  conduct  more 
deeply  to  heart  than  she  seemed  to  ?  Had  she  fol- 
lowed Bridget's  example  and  gone  away,  "without 
giving  notice  ?  " 

Hastily  putting  en  his  clothes  Fawcett  sought  the 
lower  floor.  Everything  was  ready  to  put  on  the  table, 
but  the  meal  was  eattn  in  almost  total  silence.  He 


FAvrcxrrs  MABEL. 

Misunderstood  entirely  the  operations  of  his  wife's 
mind.  He  said  to  himself,  when  he  had  touched  her 
cheek  with  his  lips  and  was  on  the  way  to  the  office, 
that  he  would  make  it  all  right  with  Mabel  in  a  day  or 
two.  She  had  tried  to  rule  the  household,  and  that  was 
something  no  woman  should  ever  do.  He  had  proved 
himself  the  master,  but  he  would  be  all  the  more  con- 
siderate now  that  was  accomplished. 

Days  passed  by,  during  which  the  wife  attended  to 
her  duties,  as  a  hired  servant  might  have  done,  taking 
his  impatience,  when  it  came,  with  the  calmness  of  a 
dog,  and  seeming  to  find  little  difference  when  he  was 
jovial  and  full  of  pr?.ise  for  her  efforts. 

"  We  will  sleep  in  your  room,  if  you  wish,"  he  said, 
at  the  end  of  a  week. 

u  Very  well." 

"  You  would  prefer  it,  would  you  not?  n 

"  It  is  the  same  to  me." 

"  Mabel  is  getting  sulky,"  he  thought,  looking  at  her 
impassive  face. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"YOU  NEVER  SAW  A  GIRL  I  " 

BUSINESS  brightened  a  little  with  the  commission 
merchant,  during  the  succeeding  weeks,  and  after  think- 
ing it  over  he  decided  to  go  to  Boston  and  pay  Frank 
Selden  $2,000  of  the  sum  he  had  borrowed.  The  debt 
had  worried  him  somewhat,  for  the  profits  accrr.ing 
had  not  been  large,  and  he  feared  the  ups  and  downs  of 
tiie  spring  market.  If  the  sum  he  owed  was  reduced 
h«  was  willing  to  risk  the  rest,  and  he  eould  spare  it 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  ijj 

now  better  than  at  any  previous  time.  He  tohl  Mabel 
his  plan,  and  began  to  pack  a  valise  for  the  journey. 

"  Of  course  I  cannot  stay  in  the  house  alone,"  she 
said.  (They  had  never  filled  the  place  of  Miss  Bridget) 
"  Some  one  will  have  to  sleep  here." 

Fawcett  thought  the  idea  childish,  but  he  was  not 
surprised  at  it,  coming  from  the  source  it  did. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  he  answered.  "  Get  one  of  the 
neighbors  to  come  in.  I  shall  not  be  gone  more  than 
three  or  four  nights." 

Mabel  felt  a  bitterness  at  the  heart  that  she  managed 
to  conceal.  He  was  going  directly  to  the  city,  probably 
to  the  very  house  where  her  mother  was  living,  and  he 
had  not  asked  whether  she  would  like  to  accompany 
him  I  She  missed  her  mother  intensely,  but  pride  had 
prevented  her  making  any  sign,  and  in  her  frequent 
letters  to  Mrs.  Morey  she  had  given  no  hint  that  any- 
thing was  otherwise  than  as  it  should  be.  She  wa« 
sure  that  most  men  would  have  taken  their  wives  on 
such  a  journey.  She  would  not  have  hinted  it  to  him 
for  the  world,  however,  and  she  saw  him  depart  with 
no  more  than  the  ordinary  kiss,  that  kiss  that  had 
come  to  mean  so  little  to  her.  After  she  was  sure  he 
had  gone  and  was  not  likely  to  return,  she  went  to  her 
bedroom  and  had  a  good  cry,  which  made  her  feel 
better,  if  it  had  no  other  effect. 

Selden  was  apprised  of  the  intention  of  Fawcett  to 
come  to  Boston,  but  he  did  not  know  the  object  of  the 
trip.  When  he  was  told  that  Allan  wanted  to  lessen 
the  debt  he  owed,  he  objected  vigorously. 

"  You  are  too  flighty  for  a  business  man,"  he  declared. 
"  Why  don't  you  leave  the  thing  as  it  is  ?  You  are 
doing  well  and  your  transactions  are  certain  to  increase 
in  time.  If  you  pay  this  money  now  it  may  eramp  you 


13*  YOVfiG  FA  WCETT*S  MAf&L. 

in  an  inconvenient  way.  What  is  $5,000  in  such  a 
business  as  yours  ?  Why,  there  are  concerns  here  who 
have  fifty  times  that  amount,  and  could  find  use  for 
more  if  they  had  it." 

Fawcett  made  an  effort  to  appear  firm.  He  said 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  and  would  like  the  credit 
given  at  once  on  his  notes. 

"  When  are  you  going  back?  "  asked  Selden. 

"  In  two  or  three  days." 

"  Well,  then,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let  us  talk  of  seme* 
thing  besides  notes  and  payments  to-day,  at  least  It's 
;.n  awful  while  since  I  saw  you.  Why,  hang  it  1  it  was 
before  you  were  married  I " 

This  allusion  brought  a  shade  of  color  to  Fawcetf  s 
face.  He  wished  that  this  fellow  would  talk  of  some- 
thing else. 

"  Mrs.  Morey  is  at  your  house  still,  I  suppose,"  he 
said. 

"  She's  at  mother's,  which  just  now  is  hardly  the 
same  thing.  I  sometimes  call  that  my  home,  but  I 
have  a  suite  over  on  Boylston  Street,  opposite  the 
Public  Garden,  where  I  am  chez  moi,  as  the  French  say. 
Mother  got  to  talking  too  much  about  the  hours  I  kept, 
so  I  thought  it  best  to  live  where  there  would  be  no 
one  to  tell  tales.  Come  around  there — it's  not  ten 
minutes'  ride,  unless  the  cars  are  blocked — and  see 
how  you  like  my  quarters." 

The  two  young  men  were  not  much  longer  in  reach- 
ing the  place  than  had  been  predicted.  The  suite  was 
indeed  a  very  pleasant  one,  with  a  nice  panorama  in 
front  and  an  air  of  cosiness  that  was  charming. 

"Who  does  the  work,  who  keeps  things  in  order?" 
asked  Allan,  when  he  had  inspected  the  parlor  and 


PA  WCETT'S  MABRL.  139 

"Gretchen.  You  shall  see  her.  She's  quite  a 
treasure.  Neat  as  a  pin  about  the  furniture,  and  able 
to  cook  a  steak  or  chop  in  case  I  want  to  lunch  here. 
I  often  bring  in  a  party  of  half  a  dozen  after  the  theatre. 
All  I  have  to  do  is  to  open  that  door  r,nd  say,  '  Gretchen, 
there  are  seven  of  us.'  She  has  never  failed  me  yet. 
The  refrigerator  is  always  supp.'ed  and  the  wine-chest 
contains  everything  from  champagne  to  beer." 

Mr.  Fawcett  remarked  that  he  did  not  see  how  it 
was  possible  for  such  preparations  to  be  made  without 
previous  notice. 

"Neither  do  I,"  laughed  Frank.  "I  consider  it 
quite  miraculous.  I  give  her  carte  blanche  and  she 
fixes  it  somehow.  It  is  rather  expensive,  but  ft  is  well 
worth  the  money.  Why,  I  can  do  absolutely  anything 
I  like,  you  know." 

And  at  that  he  went  into  a  minute  account  of  some 
things  that  had  taken  place  in  those  apartments^  which 
Fawcett  did  not  enjoy  hearing  half  as  much  as  he  was 
expected  to. 

**  I  forgot  that  you  are  now  a  sober,  married  man," 
smiled  Selden,  seeing  that  his  pleasantries  fell  on  unat- 
tentive  ears." 

"  I  never  was  a  very  wild  one,"  responded  Allan. 

"  No,  but  I  remember  the  fair  Sadie,  and " 

"  Don't  bring  that  up,  please,"  was  the  reply,  in  a 
pained  tone.  "  I  assure  you  I  would  give  a  great  deal 
if  it  had  never  occurred." 

Selden  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"That  is  the  way  with  all  newly-married  men,  I've 
been  told,"  said  he.  "  Time  will  bring  you  around,  old 
fellow." 

A  look  containing  something  little  short  of  i 
•MM  into  Fawcett's  eyes. 


145  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  he  gasped,  "  that  I  shall  some  day 
be  false  to  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  drawled  Fr*nk.  "  Why  not  you,  as  well 
as  everybody  else  ?  Damn  it,  man,  we  live  in  the 
nineteenth  century." 

Fawcett  turned  pale  at  the  thought.  He  had  quar- 
relled with  Mabel,  he  had  found  fault  with  her,  he  had 
wished  she  were  different  in  many  ways,  but  he  would 
as  soon  have  cut  off  his  hand  as  to  have  violated  the 
vows  he  had  made  in  Mrs.  Morey's  little  parlor  eleven 
weeks  before. 

"  You  have  a  reckless  way  of  saying  things,  Frank," 
he  replied,  when  he  could  speak.  "  Men  are  not  all  as 
bad  as  you  would  make  them  out.  And  when  you  get 
married  yourself,  you  will  find  a  vast  change  coming 
over  your  views." 

Selden  had  lit  a  cigar  and  was  puffing  it  rapidly, 
sending  the  smoke  in  huge  waves  into  the  atmosphere 
of  the  room. 

"When  I  get  married,"  he  repeated,  scornfully. 
"  Bless  you,  and  begging  your  pardon,  I  never  shall  be 
»uch  a  fool ! " 

It  was  well  enough  for  him  to  say  that,  Allan 
thought,  now  that  the  girl  he  wanted  had  been  gained 
by  another.  He  remembered  the  things  that  Mabel 
and  her  mother  had  insinuated  about  Frank's  desire  to 
marry  her,  and  he  wondered  if  his  disappointment  had 
been  very  great.  He  was  aroused  from  the  reverie 
into  which  these  reflections  brought  him  by  Selden 
speaking  again. 

"  I  have  seen  lots  of  nice  girls  in  my  time,  but  not 
one  that  I  would  have  married  if  they  had  been  pos- 
sessed of  untold  estates.  I  like  some  of  them  im- 
mensely, but  to  marry  them,  why,  it's  preposterous ! n 


YOVNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  141 

A  faintness  struck  through  the  entire  being  of  the 
listener.  Was  Selden  lying  or  had  some  one  else  told 
an  untruth  ? 

"  You  never  wanted  to  marry  ? "  he  said  vaguely. 
"  You  never  saw  a  girl  that  you  would  have  made  your 
wife  ? " 

"  Never,  on  my  honor  1  And  I  have  been  in  love  at 
least  a  thousand  times.  If  it  were  not  for  that  samt 
institution  of  marriage  this  world  would  be  a  veritable 
paradise  to  me.  When  I  have  won  the  affection  of  a 
girl,  when  I  have  reached  the  point  where  her  heart  in- 
clines toward  me,  perhaps  when  I  have  snatched  a 
kiss  or  two  from  her  rosy  mouth  and  drawn  her  to  my 
bosom  in  one  fleeting  embrace,  there  always  appears  on 
the  scene  some  elderly  person  who  wishes  to  be  in- 
formed of  my  intentions !  Confound  them,  I  have 
none.  I  want  merely  to  be  let  alone.  I  wish  to  suck 
the  honey  from  the  delicate  flower,  as  the  bee  does  in 
the  garden.  I  want  to  love,  and  they  want  me  to 
marry !  I  pause  to  inhale  the  sweetness  of  a  rose,  and 
the  proprietor  comes  out  to  demand  that  I  purchase 
the  whole  conservatory !  I  stroke  the  ears  of  a  tame 
gazelle,  and,  presto,  I  am  asked  to  assume  the  care 
and  expense  of  the  creature,  and  its  progeny,  as  long 
as  it  lives !  Marriage !  The  very  word  disgusts  me ! " 

Some  one  had  lied.  And  Allan  Fawcett  did  not 
believe,  as  he  heard  this  vicious  harangue,  that  it  was 
Frank  Selden. 

"  I  wish  I  could  convey  to  you  how  ridiculous  it 
seems  to  me,"  continued  Frank,  after  a  momentary 
pause.  "Say  that  I  fall  wildly,  madly  in  love  with 
the  prettiest  and  sweetest  girl  in  the  world.  Say 
she  is  charming,  that  ske  makes  me  for  the  time 
believe  heaven  has  been  let  dow»  in  a  basket,  and  that 


14*  Y6VN6  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

she  is  its  central  figure.  No  man  knows  better  than 
I  how  infinitely  sweet  such  a  girl  can  be.  No  man 
could  be  more  sensitive  to  her  excellencies,  from  one 
end  of  the  scale  to  the  other.  I  could  take  her  and 
love  her  for  weeks,  perhaps  for  months — I  would  not 
swear  it  might  not  be  for  years.  But  look  at  the  bar- 
gain that  is  held  out  to  me  1  *  If  you  take  this  girl,' 
say  her  relations,  '  you  must  agree  never  to  go  with 
another ;  you  must  guarantee  that  your  affection  will 
not  be  dimmed  by  the  passing  of  years ;  you  must 
undertake  the  payment  of  her  bills,  and  those  of  her 
children,  an  endless  expense  stretching  out  into  the  fu- 
ture. If  you  take  her  you  have  drawn  your  only  prize 
in  the  lottery  of  life,  and  you  must  be  content  with  it.* 
'  Bah  !  She  may  grow  ill-tempered ;  she  will  certainly 
grow  old ;  she  is  liable  to  become  fat ;  her  hair  will 
turn  from  brown  to  gray ;  or  maybe  her  rounded  curves 
that  fascinate  and  stupefy  the  senses  will  disappear ; 
the  swan-like  neck  will  become  scrawny ;  on  the  dimpled 
face  wrinkles  will  come !  And  I  must  still  love  her, 
embrace  her,  turn  my  eyes  in  no  other  direction  1  She 
is  the  only  woman  for  me,  though  a  million  others  spring 
up  in  my  path  as  beautiful  as  she  was  when  I  wo» 
her !  A  nice  prospect,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Fawcett  heard  this  in  a  dim  way,  hardly  compre- 
hending its  full  meaning.  He  was  thinking  of  some- 
thing else.  Had  Mrs.  Morey  and  Mabel  wilfully 
deceived  him  ?  Was  Selden  an  unconscious  stool- 
pigeon  in  their  hands  to  hasten  the  proposal  of  the 
desired  lover  ?  It  looked  too  much  like  it  to  be  agree- 
able. Except  for  this  he  might  have  waited  some  time 
longer  before  entering  on  the  matrimonial  state.  He 
wished  he  had  done  so.  Not  that  he  wanted  to  give  up 
Mabel— with  all  their  little  differences  he  wouM  Ml 


Y9UNG  PA  WCETT'S  MABEl  143 

have  parted  with  her  for  anything — but  he  would  have 
taken  more  time.  He  would  have  waited  till  he  could 
boast  a  better  bank  account,  till  he  was  wholly  out  of 
debt  and  had  a  good  sum  ahead.  And  the  story  of 
Frank's  love  for  Mabel  had  been  used  upon  him  as  a 
make-weight !  He  would  have  a  talk  with  Mrs.  Morey 
about  this  matter  before  he  left  Boston. 

"  Well,"  said  Selden,  after  waiting  some  seconds  to 
see  what  Fawcett  would  say  in  answer  to  his  argument, 
"  you  are  married  and  happy,  and  for  the  present  that 
satisfies  you.  And  how  is  my  little  cousin,  and  why 
did  you  not  bring  her  along,  that  we  might  see  how  she 
takes  her  new  honors  and  responsibilities  ?  " 

For  the  first  time  the  idea  entered  Fawcett's  head 
that  he  might  have  brought  Mabel  with  him.  He 
wondered,  now  it  was  suggested,  that  she  had  said 
nothing  on  the  subject.  It  was  evident  to  him  that  she 
had  not  cared  to  come,  and  he  said  so  to  Frank. 

"  She  did  not  like  to  lock  up  the  house,  and  there 
was  no  one  else  to  leave." 

"  Can't  you  trust  your  servants  ? "  asked  Selden. 
"  They  must  be  a  bad  lot ;  but  it's  often  the  case  now- 
adays. There  aren't  many  like  Gretchen.  I  would 
leave  the  key  to  my  safe  with  her." 

Selden  reached  above  his  head  and  pressed  a  button 
inserted  in  a  wall.  Immediately  a  boy  of  about  twelve 
years  of  age  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Tell  Gretchen  that  Mr.  Selden  and  a  friend  of  his 
will  see  her  when  she  is  at  liberty." 

The  boy  vanished,  leaving  Fawcett  in  a  state  of  some 
surprise.  He  was  not  used  to  hearing  housekeepers 
summoned  in  this  manner.  Frank  went  on  talking  for 
the  next  twenty  minutes,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time 
the  door  opened  again. 


144  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MAIML. 

A  tall  woman,  unmistakably  German,  stood  in  the 
doorway.  She  had  an  abundance  of  light  hair  and  a 
very  fair  complexion.  Her  eyes  were  large  and  blue. 
Her  figure  was  of  the  order  called  buxom.  Her  dress 
was  neat  and  rather  expensive. 

"  Gretchen,"  said  Selden,  unceremoniously,  "  I  have 
been  telling  my  friend,  Mr.  Fawcett,  about  you ;  and  I 
thought  he  ought  to  see  you." 

The  tall  woman  bowed  and  stood  waiting  to  see  if 
the  speaker  had  any  further  orders.  Her  manner  was 
dignified,  almost  stately.  She  might  have  been  pro- 
prietress of  some  large  establishment,  with  many  em- 
ploye's under  her,  and  not  in  the  least  what  Fawcett  had 
imagined  as  the  person  in  charge  of  Selden's  rooms. 

The  German  woman  remained  on  exhibition,  as  one 
might  say,  for  what  was  probably  a  full  minute,  though 
it  seemed  much  longer  to  Fawcett,  who  was  oppressed 
by  the  strangeness  of  the  affair,  and  was  much  relieved 
when  Frank  spoke  and  said  she  might  go.  With  an- 
other bow  she  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ? "  asked  Frank,  with  a 
smile. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  was  the  reply. 

Selden  laughed. 

11 1  found  her  in  her  native  land  several  years  ago," 
laid  he.  "  She  had  lost  both  her  parents  and  was 
actually  begging  in  the  streets.  I  was  a  student  there, 
and  when  I  saw  how  wholesome  she  looked,  I  said  to 
myself  that  I  would  provide  a  much  better  place  for 
the  pretty  fraulein.  But  Gretchen  had  entirely  differ- 
ent views  on  that  subject  As  the  novels  say,  '  She 
rejected  my  proposals  with  scorn.'  I  was  about  to 
come  home,  and,  as  one  might  toss  a  biscuit  to  a  dog, 
I  paid  her  passage  ov«r  hero  in  the  steerage,  never 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  145 

expecting  to  see  her  again.  She  wasn't  to  be  got  rid  of 
so  easily,  however.  Within  a  week  she  had  found  me. 
She  said  I  was  the  only  friend  she  had  in  America,  and 
as  she  could  not  speak  the  language  she  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  Once  more  I  offered  suggestions,  and 
quite  as  firmly  as  before  she  declined  them.  So  I  spoke 
to  a  fellow  who  keeps  an  intelligence  office,  and  he  got 
her  a  place  where  she  learned  the  culinary  art  and 
the  science  of  housekeeping.  When  I  hired  this  crib 
nothing  was  more  natural  than  that  I  should  think  of 
her,  and  she  fits  the  place  like  a  glove." 

Somewhat  doubtful  whether  he  had  heard  the  whole 
of  this  interesting  story,  Fawcett  suggested  that  Mr. 
Selden  would  have  to  be  circumspect  in  the  nature  of 
the  company  he  invited  to  his  rooms,  if  the  fraulein  was 
so  particular. 

"  Oh,  she  has  sense ! "  exclaimed  the  other.  "  If  I 
bring  a  girl  up  here  for  a  supper,  or  several  of  them  in 
a  party,  she's  blind  as  a  bat.  There  couldn't  be  any- 
thing nicer  than  the  way  she  does  things.  And  she's 
as  good  as  I  tell  you,  on  my  word,  though  I  never  can 
make  the  other  fellows  believe  it." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  NIGHT  AT  SKLDKN's. 

IT  was  decided  that  the  friends  would  dine  together 
in  a  restaurant  that  evening  and  at  Mrs.  Selden's  the 
next  day.  A  dinner  would  have  to  be  taken  at  the 
latter  place  some  time,  in  order  that  Allan  might  see 
Mrs.  Morey.  The  time  passed  agreeably,  and  the  two 
gentlemen  returned  to  the  apartments  at  a  wwon»klt 
M 


146  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

hour.  On  being  shown  to  his  chamber,  Fawcett  made 
the  discovery  that  the  suite  was  larger  than  he  had  sup- 
posed. 

"Why,  you've  got  a  lot  of  rooms  here!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  What  do  you  want  with  so  many  ? " 

"  They  come  in  handy  occasionally.  There  are  ten 
altogether,  counting  the  servants'  and  Gretchen's." 

Frank  was  certainly  keeping  up  a  very  pretty  estab- 
lishment, but  he  had  plenty  of  money,  and  it  was  his 
affair.  Allan  could  not  help  contrasting  it  with  his  own 
home,  where  Mabel  did  the  work.  She  did  not  need 
to  do  it ;  it  was  her  own  proposition,  but  it  made  the 
contrast  great,  just  the  same. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  proposed  to  have  the 
business  matter  settled,  Frank  escaped  it  by  pleading 
an  engagement.  He  said  he  would  have  to  be  excused 
till  lunch-time.  The  pair  were  on  their  way  to  Mrs. 
Selden's  before  five  o'clock,  with  nothing  accomplished. 

Mrs.  Morey  and  Fawcett  were  permitted,  by  common 
consent,  to  have  a  long  chat  together  before  dinner  was 
served,  but  little  important  was  said.  Fawcett  did  not 
muster  courage  even  to  ask  about  the  alleged  proposal 
of  Selden  for  Mabel's  hand.  He  concluded  that  he 
would  reserve  that  till  he  reached  home  and  fire  the 
shot  at  his  wife.  He  said  nothing  to  intimate  that  mat- 
ters were  strained  at  Norwood,  and  Mrs.  Morey  was 
well  satisfied  with  the  interview. 

"  I  don't  know  how  long  I  shall  stay  here,"  she  said, 
"  but  you  are  welcome  to  the  household  goods  till  I  de- 
cide where  to  settle.  If  you  should  want  to  buy  things 
I  would  do  what  is  reasonable  on  any  of  mine  that  you 
wished  to  purchase." 

This  struck  Fawcett  disagreeably,  but  he  said  noth- 
ing. He  had  had  an  idea  that  the  moveables  referred 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  AfAtEL.  147 

to  were  in  effect  already  his  property.  He  had  not  sup- 
posed that  Mrs.  Morey  ever  intended  to  keep  house 
again.  In  reckoning  up  the  cost  of  new  carpets  and 
furniture  he  forgot  for  the  moment  the  question  that 
had  previously  agitated  his  mind, 

"  Come  and  see  us  whenever  you  can,"  he  said,  at 
parting. 

It  seemed  a  necessary  thing  to  say,  though  there  was 
not  much  heart  in  the  invitation.  Not  that  he  had  any 
objection  to  Mrs.  Morey,  but  his  family  affairs  were 
not  yet  arranged  enough  to  his  liking  to  have  him  care 
for  any  company  whatever. 

"  I  will  come  before  long,"  said  the  widow.  "  By 
the  way,  Mabe1  writes  me  that  she  has  never  been  ablo 
to  fill  Bridget'^  place." 

"  No.  I  wish  she  could.  But  you  know,  Mrs. 
Morey,  Mabel  likes  to  have  her  own  way  pretty  well, 
and  she  prefers  the  work  to  a  girl  who  is  not  willing  to 
be  managed." 

There  was  just  the  least  imaginable  touch  of  criticism 
in  this,  and  Mrs.  Morey  resolved  that  she  would  give 
Mabel  a  little  advice  in  her  next  letter.  Her  daughter 
had  been  so  reticent  about  all  her  troubles  that  the  mother 
was  completely  deceived.  She  would  tell  Mabel  that 
the  right  way  for  a  wife  was  to  defer  a  good  deal  to  hef 
husband,  or  at  least  to  have  the  appearance  of  so  doing, 
She  knew  that  Fawcett  also  "  liked  his  own  way  pretty 
well,"  and  that  men  who  could  not  be  dragged  with  a 
cable  might  be  led  by  a  tow-string,  if  the  proper  method 
was  used.  She  had  congratulated  herself  that  her  son- 
in-law  and  her  daughter  were  getting  along  so  finely, 
for  in  spite  of  her  intimate  acquaintance  with  Mabel 
there  were  phases  in  that  young  woman's  character 
which  she  had  never  suspected. 


148  VO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT  'S 

"  Tell  me  everything,  dear,"  had  been  her  final  In- 
junction, as  the  carriage  that  was  to  take  Mabel  away 
with  her  husband  for  the  first  time  rolled  up  to  the 
door.  "  Tell  your  mother  everything.  My  experience 
may  be  of  great  value  to  you." 

She  supposed  that  Mabel  had  told  her  everything, 
whereas  she  had  told  her  nothing. 

The  next  morning  Fawcett  insisted  on  Selden's  tak- 
ing the  $2,000  he  had  brought  for  him,  and  after  exhaust- 
Ing  all  argument  against  it  he  consented  to  do  so,  and 
credited  him  with  the  amount  on  the  back  of  his  note. 

"  It's  wrong,"  protested  Frank.  "  I  take  an  especial 
interest  in  you,  now  that  you  are  a  member  of  the  fam- 
ily, and  I  want  you  to  get  to  be  a  rich  man  as  fast  as 
you  can.  The  most  potent  factor  in  the  accumulation 
of  wealth  is  the  ability  to  control  capital.  You  may 
grub  along  till  you  are  gray  in  that  confounded  village 
of  yours  with  six  or  seven  thousand  dollars  to  work 
with,  and  that  is  all  it  will  amount  to.  But  it's  your 
own  affair.  All  I  say  is,  if  you  ever  want  it  back,  you 
have  only  to  send  me  a  line  or  a  wire." 

This  looked  handsome,  and  Fawcett  felt  immensely 
relieved.  Not  only  had  he  carried  out  his  intention  of 
reducing  the  interest  he  was  to  pay,  but  he  had  without 
trouble  secured  the  right  to  take  the  other  tack  when 
ever  he  should  think  it  advisable.  He  had  both  ends 
of  the  string  in  his  hand.  The  rest  of  the  day  he  passed 
in  going  about,  for  he  was  to  return  to  Norwood  in 
the  morning,  and  he  wanted  to  make  the  most  of  his 
outing.  At  night  Selden  informed  him  that  he  had  ar- 
ranged a  little  dinner  in  his  honor  at  his  rooms,  at  which 
three  or  four  good  fellows  had  agreed  to  be  present. 

Somewhat  to  Fawcett's  consternation,  when  the  ad. 
vance  guard  arrived,  he  discovered  that  seme  ol  th» 


YOUNG  PA  WCE rr'S  MABEL.  1 49 

"good  fellows"  were  to  bo  of  the  feminine  gender. 
And  it  did  not  require  any  great  discernment  to  find 
out  that  they  were  not  of  the  most  rigid  ideas  as  to 
propriety,  either. 

The  first  one,  Miss  Dolly  Johnson,  left  her  escort  as 
soon  as  she  crossed  the  threshold,  and  rushing  up  to 
Selden,  enveloped  him  in  her  arms,  declaring  in  a  loud 
voice  that  she  had  not  seen  him  for  an  age.  It  was 
with  some  difficulty  that  she  was  disentangled  sufficient- 
ly to  be  presented  to  Mr.  Fawcett.  As  soon  as  pos- 
sible Frank  whispered  something  in  her  ear  that  made 
her  laugh  uproariously.  He  had  told  her  to  be  a  little 
more  careful,  because  his  friend  was  a  gentleman  from 
the  country. 

There  was  no  opportunity  for  Fawcett  to  say  much, 
as  the  other  guests  arrived  a  moment  later.  But  he 
was  as  angry  as  a  man  could  be  and  contain  himself  when 
the  latest  comer  proved  to  be  Miss  Sadie  Reeder,  the 
young  woman  with  whom  was  associated  some  of  the 
most  disagreeable  incidents  in  his  recollection.  He 
bowed  to  her  quite  stiffly,  and  cast  a  look  of  indignation 
at  Selden  when  that  young  man  remarked,  for  the  gen- 
eral information,  "  Of  course  yeu  two  haven't  forgottea 
each  other." 

The  conversation  took  on  such  a  brisk  turn  with  the 
others  that  Fawcett  could  not  avoid  saying  something 
to  Miss  Reeder  without  positive  rudeness.  It  was  not 
her  fault  so  much  as  Frank's  that  this  meeting  had 
taken  place. 

"  Excuse  me  for  saying  one  thing  to  begin  with,"  he 
remarked,  when  she  had  mentioned  that  he  was  looking 
well,  and  that  she  was  extremely  glad  to  meet  him 
"I  am  BOW  named,  and— I  had  ••  inttn- 


I5e  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

He  paused,  stuck  in  the  middle  of  his  sentence, 
and  with  ready  intelligence  she  proceeded  to  help  him 
out. 

"  Of  renewing  old  friendships  like  mine  ?  "  she  said. 
"  I  am  sure  you  are  quite  right,  and  I  will  be  as  correct 
as  possible  this  evening.  Mr.  Selden  told  me  of  your 
marriage  at  the  time— a  cousin  of  his,  he  said,  and  a 
very  sweet  little  woman." 

The  hot  blood  surged  through  Fawcett's  brain.  This 
creature  had  no  right,  with  her  soiled  lips,  to  allude 
even  in  such  a  manner  to  his  pure  Mabel.  He  wished 
he  could  escape  from  the  house  without  actually  run- 
ning away.  Quick  to  perceive,  Miss  Reeder  divined 
the  cause  of  his  sudden  flush  and  deftly  turned  the 
conversation  on  to  a  less  disagreeable  channel.  But 
he  could  not  escape  the  fact  that  in  the  division  of 
favors  Sadie  had  been  evidently  assigned  to  him,  and 
he  meant  to  scold  Frank  roundly  for  it  when  he  had 
him  alone. 

At  the  dinner,  which  was  soon  served  in  the  cozy 
salle-a-manger,  Mr.  Selden  took  occasion  to  allude 
in  set  terms  to  the  fact  that  the  affair  was  held  in 
special  honor  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Fawcett,  and  great 
congratulations  were  showered  upon  him  when  the 
words,  "who  is  now  my  cousin  by  marriage,"  were 
uttered.  The  only  way  in  which  Fawcett  could  brace 
up  his  shattered  nerves  was  to  imbibe  more  freely  than 
common  of  the  beverages  served,  and  this  he  did  with 
the  result  that  he  ultimately  lost  his  fine  sense  of 
propriety  and  became  almost  as  gay  as  the  others. 

I  do  not  intend  to  tell  with  anything  like  minuteness 
the  story  of  that  evening.  That  the  passing  hours,  in 
which  champagne  was  drunk  freely  by  everybody,  led 
iaU  something  approaching  license,  I  will  not  deny. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  151 

Fawcett  missed  the  early  morning  train  that  he  had 
intended  to  take,  and  when  he  went  to  the  after- 
noon one,  it  was  with  puffed  eyelids  and  shuffling  gait. 
He  had  had  an  out-and-out  quarrel  with  Selden,  whom 
he  accused  of  having  planned  the  whole  affair  in  order 
to  disgrace  him.  Frank  listened  to  his  abuse  with  ap- 
parent astonishment,  declaring  that  he  must  be  crazy 
to  talk  as  he  did,  and  that  nothing  had  happened 
to  him  except  what  he  had  brought  on  himself.  The 
dinner,  he  averred,  was  intended  to  be  a  pleasant  clos- 
ing of  his  visit  to  the  city.  If  he  had  swallowed  a  lake 
of  wine  and  didn't  know  how  to  carry  it  off,  he  surely 
ought  to  blame  some  one  beside  his  entertainer.  When 
he  had  pulled  himself  together  a  little  he  would  be 
sorry  for  the  things  he  had  said. 

Fawcett  refused  to  be  placated.  It  was  a  question 
at  one  time  whether  he  would  not  vent  his  rage  in 
something  more  substantial  than  words.  As  he  took 
the  train  he  felt  that  he  would  not  care  if  it  ran  off  the 
track  and  broke  his  body  into  fragments.  He  had  dis- 
graced himself  beyond  repair.  He  had  disgraced  his 
wife — that  innocent,  pure  girl,  whose  name  had  been 
mentioned  at  that  table  amid  the  popping  of  corks  and 
the  sound  of  indecent  revelry  !  How  could  he  ever  go 
back  to  her  ?  How  could  he  look  her  in  the  face  after 
what  had  happened  ? 

He  entered  Norwood,  a  prey  to  the  most  terrible 
melancholy.  The  sun  had  set,  and  he  went  to  his 
office  first,  where  he  could  think  what  it  was  best  to 
do.  Should  he  tell  Mabel  and  get  the  awful  secret 
from  his  mind  ?  Would  she  ever  forgive  him  ?  Ought 
he  to  be  forgiven  ?  Supposing  the  case  were  reversed, 
and  she — !  No,  such  a  thought  would  drive  hiro 
mad  1  What  should  he  do  ?  What  should  he  do  ? 


152  YO  UNC  FA  WCE  TT  'S  MABEL. 

To  divert  his  mind  for  a  moment  he  turned  to  a 
heap  of  letters  that  lay  on  his  desk,  which  had  been 
accumulating  during  his  absence.  The  first  one  puz« 
zled  him  for  a  few  minutes.  It  was  for  the  sum  of 
$98,  sent  by  the  principal  dry-goods  store  of  the  town. 
He  had  never  had  a  thing  charged  there  in  his  life, 
and  he  wondered  what  they  meant  by  sending  this 
immense  bill  to  him.  What  a  lot  of  items  there  were ! 
Spools  of  thread,  and  dozens  of  buttons,  and  yards  of 
insertion  !  What  was  this — two  pairs  of  corsets  !  He 
could  not  remember  making  any  such  purchase.  It 
must  be  a  stupid  blunder  of  their  bookkeeper,  who  had 
sent  a  bill  to  him  that  belonged  to  some  one  else  of  the 
same  family  name. 

The  next  envelope  he  opened  contained  another  bill 
that  set  him  to  wondering  again.  It  was  for  two  boiv 
nets  and  a  hat,  and  some  feathers  and  elastic,  and 
heaven  knows  what  all,  with  the  sum  total  set  down  as 
$37.50.  He  began  to  grow  angry.  "  Allan  Fawcett  to 
Mme.  Celeste,  Dr.,  to  one  hat  lining,  25  cents."  He 
did  not  buy  hat  linings  separate  from  the  hat,  and 
he  had  never  entered  Mme.  Celeste's  door.  Another 
stupid  blunder. 

There  was  hardly  anything  in  that  pile  of  letters  but 
bills.  The  next  one  he  recognized.  It  was  from 
the  grocer  who  supplied  him,  and  the  only  thing  wrong 
about  it  was  the  largeness  of  the  figures.  Could  he  and 
Mabel  have  eaten  all  those  things  in  less  than  three 
months  ?  What  awful  appetites  !  Then  there  was  the 
meat  and  butter  man's  bill,  also  astounding.  Fawcett 
added  the  cost  of  all  the  provisions  together  and 
uttered  a  prolonged  sigh.  Those  were  not  the  kind 
of  figures  Mrs.  Morey  had  given  him.  It  would  be 
much  cheaper  to  board  and  have  done  with  it  I  Mabd 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  153 

must  waste  everything  fearfully.  Of  course  they  had 
never  eaten  all  those  things.  One  might  have  run 
a  hotel  on  that  amount.  He  would  have  to  talk  with 
her  and  see  that  something  was  done  for  the  future. 
It  would  simply  ruin  a  man  to  have  such  bills  sent  in 
to  him  I 

Accustomed  to  place  the  greatest  stress  on  items  that 
were  covered  by  dollars  and  cents,  Allan  Fawcett  went 
home  with  those  grocery  and  provision  figures  upper- 
most in  his  mind.  It  was  but  little  past  nine  o'clock, 
but  Mabel  had  gone  to  bed.  She  was  alone  in  the 
house,  having  told  the  friend  who  had  stayed  on 
the  previous  nights  that  Mr.  Fawcett  would  be  sure  to 
come.  When  she  heard  his  key  in  the  front  door  she 
sat  up  and  waited  with  expectancy.  He  had  been 
gone  three  days,  and  she  had  thought  a  great  deal 
in  that  time.  There  had  been  too  much  coolness 
between  them,  she  had  said,  over  and  over.  There 
must  be  less  of  it  in  the  future.  They  had  become 
alienated  from  each  other,  and  they  must  grow  to« 
gether  again.  She  hungered  and  thirsted  for  love  as 
she  never  had  done  before.  Her  heart  beat  faster  as 
his  step  ascended  the  stairs.  Conquering  her  modesty, 
she  slipped  from  the  bed  and  ran  to  meet  him. 

"  Allan  ! "  she  cried,  throwing  both  half -bare  arms 
about  his  neck.  "  Oh,  I  have  wanted  you  so  much  1 
I  am  so  glad  you've  come  I  Kiss  me !  Kiss  me  J 
Why— what's  the  matter?" 

She  withdrew  herself  from  him  and  looked  piteously 
into  his  eyes.  He  had  not  returned  her  embrace  and 
the  lips  her  passionate  mouth  touched  were  unyielding 

"  Thafs  what's  the  matter!  And  that!"  he  retorted, 
shaking  the  grocery  and  provision  bills  in  her  face. 
M  Aren't  they  nice  things  to  welcome  a  man  home  after 


154  yo UNG  FA  WCE  TT 'S  MABEL. 

he  has  been  out  of  town  for  a  few  days  !  We've  not  kept 
house  three  months  yet,  and  that  is  what  you've  bought 
at  those  stores  !  Do  you  think  I  can  stand  it  ?  Well, 
I  can't !  I'm  not  an  Astor  !  What  did  you  tell  me  when 
we  talked  of  getting  married  ?  It  was  going  to  cost 
next  to  nothing.  Now  take  these  bills,  and  the  coal, 
and  the  rent,  and  the — and  the  milk,"  he  added,  striv- 
ing to  think  of  everything  that  would  swell  the  total, 
"  and  tell  me  how  you  think  a  man  of  my  income 
is  going  to  keep  up  with  this  extravagance !  " 

She  stood  there,  paralyzed.  She  had  run  to  him  ex- 
pecting a  husband's  embrace,  and  she  had  been  struck 
a  blow  as  real  as  if  he  had  slapped  her  face.  She 
looked  from  the  bills  to  his  lowering  countenance,  and 
then,  to  make  sure  she  was  not  dreaming  some  fright- 
ful thing,  she  looked  at  the  pictures  on  the  wall,  and 
at  the  window,  and  the  lamp.  What  did  it  mean, 
this  outburst  ?  If  the  bills  were  too  large,  why  was  she 
to  blame  for  it  any  more  than  he  ?  Many  of  the  things 
had  been  ordered  either  by  him  or  at  his  suggestion.  It 
was  too  horrible  to  see  him  standing  there,  with  that 
dreadful  expression,  shaking  those  papers  at  her  as  il 
they  were  warrants  for  her  arrest.  The  tears  rushed 
to  her  eyes  and  she  threw  herself  upon  his  breast. 

"  Allan  !  My  darling  !  Kiss  me  just  once — that  I 
may  know  you  are  yourself,  and  not  some  judge  come 
to  order  me  to  execution  !  Kiss  me,  for  God's  sake ! 
We  will  talk  about  the  bills  afterwards — if  they  are  too 
large  we  will  make  them  less  in  the  future — but  now, 
for  one  instant,  let  me  feel  your  arm*  around  me  !  I 
have  been  dying  of  loneliness  !  I  have  been  listening 
the  past  nine  hours  for  your  step  on  the  walk  !  Kiss 
me  !  Let  me  feel  that  I  am  your  wife,  if  but  for  one 
second,  and  then  you  may  say  whatever  you  will" 


*  *VNG  FA  WCETT>S  MABEL.  155 

No  man  not  made  of  adamant  could  refuse  such  an 
appeal.  Fawcett  suffered  the  clinging  figure,  clad  in 
those  thin  garments  of  white,  to  draw  him  toward  her. 
Finally  he  lifted  Mabel  in  his  arms  and  placed  her  on 
the  bed,  taking  a  chair  beside  her.  Fair  she  was  and 
sweet,  and  full  of  love  for  him.  The  reaction  began  to 
set  in.  He  gave  her  the  kiss  she  asked  for  and  a 
hundred  more  ;  and  when  she  had  wiped  her  wet  cheeks 
and  wanted  to  have  him  tell  her  what  was  wrong  with 
the  bills  he  refused  to  reopen  the  subject  that  night. 
They  could  discuss  it  to-morrow  just  as  well.  If  he 
had  spoken  too  harshly  he  was  sorry.  Yes,  he  loved 
her — what  a  question !  He  was  glad  to  be  with  her 
again — how  could  she  ask  so  simple  a  thing  as  that  ? 
He  had  seen  her  mother,  and  she  had  promised  to 
visit  them  soon. 

He  told  her  about  her  Aunt  Hattie  and  how  things 
looked  at  her  house.  Indeed,  he  spoke  of  everything 
connected  with  his  journey  except  Frank  Selden,  about 
whom  she  did  not  inquire,  and  the  supper  given  "  in 
honor  of  my  cousin  by  marriage."  As  to  the  latter,  to 
tell  the  truth,  he  had  for  the  moment  forgotten  it  en- 
tirely. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

WHEN  MORNING  CAME. 

WHEN  the  morning  came  Fawcett  thought  he  had 
been  unreasonable  to  blame  Mabel  for  the  size  of  the 
housekeeping  account,  though  he  did  consider  it  ex- 
orbitant. By  studying  the  figures  he  found  that  the 
cost  of  living  at  his  house  had  actually  increased  since 
the  abolition  of  the  servant-girl  department.  Mabel 


Ijt  YOUNG  FAWCETT**  MA  MEL. 

had  a  good  deal  to  learn  about  cooking,  and  doubtless 
spoiled  many  things  in  the  process  of  acquiring  knowl- 
edge. They  had  to  have  a  woman,  any  way,  to  wash 
and  iron,  and  to  do  heavy  work,  and  he  concluded  that  it 
would  be  best  to  look  up  a  good  one  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble. If  he  could  find  one  a  little  older  than  his  wife, 
who  would  use  judgment  and  not  get  into  a  clash  with 
her,  it  would  be  best. 

He  went  into  the  intelligence  office  on  his  way  to 
his  place  of  business  and  described  what  he  wanted. 
He  told  them  he  was  willing  to  pay  the  right  salary  to 
the  right  person.  He  might  as  well  make  up  his  mind 
that  the  old  cost  of  living  when  he  was  a  bachelor 
would  never  be  duplicated  again.  He  realized 
fully  that  the  cooking  since  Mrs.  Morey's  day  had 
been  much  poorer,  and  that  after  the  departure  of 
Bridget  it  was  far  from  what  it  was  before  that  time. 
But  Fawcett  was  not  an  epicure.  It  took  something 
more  than  a  badly  done  steak  or  a  burned  roast  to  put 
him  out  of  temper.  He  had  said  little  when  things 
were  at  their  worst,  so  long  as  the  meals  were  served 
on  the  exact  moment  when  they  were  due.  However, 
if  he  could  get  a  woman  to  do  the  work  who  would  act 
as  a  sort  of  housekeeper  at  the  same  time  he  would 
like  it ;  one  who  would  know,  as  neither  he  nor  his 
wife  did,  whether  the  provision  account  was  right. 

During  the  day  he  went  to  the  grocers  and  market 
and  paid  the  bills  they  had  sent  him.  He  prided  him- 
self on  owing  no  one  beyond  the  time  when  the  account 
was  presented. 

A  week  later  he  found  the  very  woman  for  whom  he 
was  searching,  a  Scotch  widow  who  wanted  a  home, 
and  who  was  ready  to  undertake  the  work  of  his  small 
establishment  at  the  same  wages  he  had  paid  Bridget 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL,  157 

It  did  not  require  much  urging  for  Mabel  to  agree  to 
"  try  her,"  though  she  declared  that  no  woman  should 
"  boss  "  her  house  over  her  head,  and  that  if  Mrs.  Angus 
attempted  it  there  would  be  trouble. 

Fawcett  was  glad  when  the  arrangement  was  made. 
A  state  of  things  approaching  that  of  the  old  times 
seemed  to  come  again  with  the  advent  of  the  new 
servant.  Everything  about  the  kitchen  and  dining- 
room  was  made  as  neat  as  a  pin,  and  on  the  moment 
when  the  clock  announced  the  hour  for  each  meal  it 
was  neatly  and  appetizingly  served.  The  young  hus- 
band made  one  or  two  mistakes  by  praising  Mrs.  Angus 
too  strongly  to  his  wife,  who  resented  the  imputation 
that  her  cooking  had  not  been  satisfactory,  but  this 
caused  only  temporary  friction.  The  interrupted 
honeymoon  was  resumed  with  a  good  deal  of  ardor, 
and  for  some  weeks  the  Fawcett  family  would  have 
served  for  a  model  of  good-nature  on  all  sides. 

One  evening  Allen  found  Mabel  looking  quite  pale, 
and  reclining  on  a  sofa.  When  he  inquired  what  was 
the  cause  she  gave  him  evasive  answers.  To  all  his 
suggestions  of  various  remedies,  or  of  calling  the  doc- 
tor, she  turned  a  deaf  ear.  There  was  something  the 
matter  with  her  stomach,  that  was  evident,  and  he 
tried  to  make  her  think  of  what  she  had  eaten,  feeling 
sure  that  the  difficulty  could  easily  be  traced.  All  that 
he  said  seemed  only  to  annoy  her,  and  the  nausea  re- 
turned at  frequent  intervals.  Much  alarmed  Fawcett 
sought  the  counsel  of  Mrs.  Angus. 

"  Mabel  is  very  ill,"  he  said,  "  and  refuses  to  let  me 
get  a  doctor.  Won't  you  see  if  there  is  anything  you 
can  do  for  her  ?  " 

The  Scotch  woman  eyed  him  narrowly.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  his  anxiety  was  real.  She  wondered  how  a 


158  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABSL. 

man  of  his  size  and  years  could  be  so  woefully  igno- 
rant. 

"  Dinna  ye  ken  what's  the  matter  wi*  her  ? "  she 
asked. 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  that  told  him  alL 
Quite  confused  he  withdrew  from  the  kitchen  and  re- 
turned to  his  wife. 

"  My  darling !  "  he  murmured,  bending  over  her. 

Mabel  had  taken  on  a  new  glory  in  his  eyes.  No 
man  more  ardently  desired  fatherhood.  Every  child 
in  the  world  was  to  him  a  young  Cupid  ;  every  mother 
a  Madonna,  endowed  with  the  attributes  of  deity.  And 
it  was  to  be  his  little  Mabel  who  should  wear  that 
crown  of  maternity  !  He  had  supposed  that  it  would 
come  some  time,  but  the  sudden  revelation  was  nearly 
paralyzing.  She  was,  in  truth,  such  a  child  herself 
that  motherhood  could  hardly  be  thought  of  in  her  case. 
He  reflected,  with  the  utmost  regret,  that  he  had  tried 
to  mould  her  too  rapidly  into  a  full-grown  woman ;  that 
he  had  acted  toward  her  as  if  she  had  ten  years  more 
on  her  pretty  shoulders.  How  sorry  he  was  now  for 
every  impatient  word  he  had  ever  let  fall ! 

"  Mabel,"  he  whispered,  "  I  wish  I  could  tell  you 
how  much  I  love  you  !  " 

She  turned  her  head  away  and  cried  on  the  pillow. 
She  was  frightened  at  what  made  him  so  happy.  Her 
first  sensations  were  not  calculated  to  reassure  her,  and 
for  the  time  the  girl  supplanted  the  woman.  She  shook 
her  head  doubtfully  when  he  told  her  that  she  would  be 
dearer  to  him  than  she  could  imagine,  and  that  never, 
never,  as  long  as  he  lived,  would  he  speak  another  cross 
syllable  to  her.  All  this  was  very  pleasant,  for  Mabel 
loved  her  husband,  but  the  nausea  would  not  respond 
to  the  mental  treatment,  and  she  continued  physically 


Y1UN6  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  159 

miserable.  Fawcett  devoted  himself  to  her  like  a  lover, 
and  at  the  end  of  a  few  days  she  had  recovered  consid- 
erably her  drooping  spirits. 

Nearly  two  months  had  passed  since  Fawcett  found 
on  his  office-desk  the  dry-goods  and  millinery  bills 
alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  chapter.  He  had  enter- 
tained no  doubt  that  they  were  sent  to  him  by  mistake, 
as  there  was  another  Fawcett  in  the  town  with  whom 
his  mail  had  at  times  been  mixed.  Rather  angry  at  the 
error,  he  had  thrown  them  into  his  waste-basket,  and 
never  given  a  thought  to  them  since  that  time.  It  was 
to  his  great  surprise,  therefore,  when  he  received  a 
polite  note  from  the  dry-goods  dealer,  asking  if  it  was 
convenient  for  him  to  settle  the  account  that  had  been 
rendered  on  April  i. 

Within  ten  minutes  he  stood  in  front  of  the  cashier 
of  the  establishment  referred  to,  wearing  no  amiable 
look. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  sending  me  such  a  letter  as 
this  ? "  he  demanded,  showing  the  obnoxious  docu- 
ment. 

"Mr.  Trask  wrote  it  himself,"  replied  the  cashier. 
*  I  will  call  him,  if  you  desire." 

Fawcett  intimated  that  that  was  what  he  most  par- 
ticularly wanted  and  when  Mr.  Trask  made  his  appear- 
ance he  repeated  his  inquiry. 

"  I  don't  see  anything  wrong  about  the  letter,"  said 
the  seller  of  cloth.  "  The  bill  was  sent  you  on  the  ist 
of  April,  and  you  have  paid  no  attention  to  it." 

Fawcett  spoke  in  his  most  sarcastic  manner. 

"  Do  you  know  any  reason  why  I  should  pay  atten- 
tion to  it?" 

«  Why— you— should  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Trask. 

"  Exactly.    Inasmuch  as  I  nevtr  had  a  cent  charged 


160  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

here,  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  bother  myself  to 
come  and  correct  your  blunders." 

Mr.  Trask  looked  at  his  cashier,  and  the  cashier 
looked  at  Mr.  Trask.  Both  saw  that  an  unpleasant 
scene  was  to  occur. 

"  Gentlemen  do  not  usually  purchase  the  dry  goods 
for  their  families,"  said  the  proprietor  of  the  store. 
"  Those  goods  were  delivered  to  Mrs.  Fawcett." 

At  first  Allan  thought  he  should  fall.  Had  his  wife 
bought  that  large  bill  of  goods  without  consulting  him — 
without  mentioning  the  matter  in  any  way  ?  What  had 
she  done  with  them  ?  He  had  seen  the  months  of 
sewing  that  Mrs.  Morey  had  gone  through  to  prepare 
her  daughter  for  her  new  station,  and  had  wondered 
how  one  slight  figure  could  find  use  for  such  an  awful 
avalanche  of  clothing.  He  well  remembered  how  Mabel 
had  said,  "  I  shall  need  nothing  for  a  year  or  more," 
when  she  was  showing  how  very  inexpensive  she  would 
be  to  her  husband,  in  doubt  as  he  was  whether  he  could 
yet  afford  to  wed.  The  mists  closed  around  him  till 
he  could  hardly  see ;  and  through  it,  as  ships  appear  in 
a  fog,  he  discerned  the  figures  of  Mr.  Trask  and  the 
cashier. 

"If  that  bill  is  correct,"  he  stammered,  "and  we  have 
had  the  goods,  it  will  be  paid  to-day.  I  never  let  an 
account  stand  that  I  know  about.  The  mistake  is 
probably  on  my  side." 

He  walked  out  of  the  store  and  back  to  his  office 
with  his  head  in  a  whirl.  He  had  never  felt  so  dis- 
graced. He  had  announced  to  those  men  in  effect  that 
he  did  not  know  what  his  wife  was  doing — that  she 
bought  things  and  charged  them  without  telling  him— 
which  might  mean  more  than  it  should  to  a  suspicious 
pair  of  fellows.  Earlier  than  his  usual  hour  he  made 


YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT  'S  MABEL.  161 

kis  appearance  at  the  house,  and  before  he  spoke  Mabel 
knew  that  something  unusual  was  the  matter. 

But  he  did  not  address  her  as  he  would  have  done  a 
month  before.  His  voice  was  merely  remonstrative, 
not  abusive. 

"  Mabel,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  I  was  placed  in  a  very 
embarrassing  position  this  morning,  one  in  which  I 
would  not  have  been  for  anything.  I  did  not  know  you 
had  been  buying  things  at  Mr.  Trask's.  He  sent  me  a 
bill  in  April,  but  I  thought  it  a  mistake  and  threw  it 
away.  To-day  I  got  a  letter  asking  me  to  settle,  and  I 
went  over,  as  I  naturally  would,  and  said  I  had  never 
had  a  thing  charged  there.  It  made  me  look  pretty  cheap 
when  he  said  you  had  got  them,  for  he  could  see  I  did 
not  know  it.  Look  over  this  bill  now  and  tell  me  if  it 
is  right,  and  please  don't  ever  again,  as  long  as  you  live, 
get  credit  outside  of  the  things  for  the  table." 

The  young  wife  felt  quite  as  badly  as  if  these  words 
had  been  spoken  in  a  very  different  key.  They  included 
a  complaint  of  her  actions,  and  it  had  been  'some 
weeks  now  since  anything  of  that  kind  had  come  from 
her  husband's  lips.  She  took  the  bill  and  tried  to  read 
the  items,  but  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  she  could 
not  make  them  out  very  well.  She  had  no  head  for 
figures,  any  way. 

"  I  guess  it's  right,"  she  said,  in  a  faltering  voice, 
when  she  had  pretended  to  complete  the  inspection. 

"  Did  you  think  there  was  —  worth  ?  "  he  asked, 
astonished. 

"  I  didn't  add  it  up.  I  only  got  such  goods  as  I  had 
to  have." 

Fawcett  wanted  to  impress  some  things  on  her,  and 
yet  he  did  not  intend  to  give  the  impression  that  he 
was  scolding. 
ii 


1 62  Y9VNG  FA  WCR TT'S  MABEL, 

"  That  was  in  eleven  weeks  after  we  returned  from 
our  wedding-trip,  MabeL" 

She  bowed,  like  a  culprit  detected  red-handed  in  his 
crime. 

He  restrained  himself  from  alluding  to  her  state- 
ments before  marriage,  and  went  on  to  the  more  impor- 
tant questions  in  his  mind. 

"  There  was,  I  remember  now,  a  bill  from  Mme. 
Celeste,  for  $37.50.  Did  you  get  that  also  ? " 

The  slight  bosom  began  to  tremble  with  tke  stifled 
emotions  that  thrilled  it. 

"  I — I  got  some  feathers — and  hats." 

Yes,  he  owed  that  bill,  too.  He  wondered  if  then 
were  any  more. 

"  Have  you  charged  goods  at  other  places  ?  I  want 
to  know  the  whole  business." 

She  tried  to  think,  but  her  mind  was  far  from  clear. 

"  Only — some  shoes—and — candy " 

Then  she  broke  down  completely  at  the  ignominy  of 
her  position. 

"  Oh,  Allan,  don't  ask  me  any  more  I  Why  did  you 
marry  me  1  I  don't  do  anything  right  1  Oh,  dear  I 
Oh,  dear  1  I  wish  I  was  dead  !  " 

He  put  his  arm  around  her  and  kissed  her  cheek, 
wiping  off  the  flowing  tears  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  You  ought  not  to  talk  like  that,"  he  said,  reproach- 
fully. "  There  is  nothing  improper  in  my  questions. 
I  care  a  great  deal  about  my  credit  and  I  want  to  pay 
the  bills  we  owe,  that's  all.  But  tell  me  just  one  thing, 
dear,  and  I  have  finished.  Why  didn't  you  ask  me  for 
the  money  ?  I  would  much  rather  you  had  done  so, 
for  if  there  is  anything  I  hate  it  is  a  running  ac- 
count." 

She  tried  to  draw  herself  out  of  his  arms,  for  she  did 


YOUNG  FAWCETT*S  MABEL.  16$ 

not  like  to  be  so  close  to  him  when  he  was  playing  th& 
part  of  a  censor,  and  she  finally  succeeded  in  regaining 
her  sitting  position. 

"  Allan,  you  don't  understand  me  at  all !  I  couldn't 
ask  you  for  money,  not  if  I  was  starving  and  that  was 
the  only  way  to  get  a  crust  of  bread.  You  never 
offered  me  a  penny,  now  did  you  ?  There  were  some 
things  I  had  to  have,  and  it  was  easier  for  me  to  go 
to  those  stores  than  to  hold  out  my  hand  to  you  like  a 
little  beggar.  I  supposed  they  sent  the  bills  to  you 
every  month,  and  that  you  had  paid  them  long  ago  and 
knew  all  about  them.  We  charge  the  provisions  and 
the  groceries,  and  the  milk  and  the  gas,  and  I  thought 
it  the  right  way  to  do.  But  I  won't  do  it  again.  No,  I 
will  go  in  rags  before  I'll  be  a  cent  of  cost  to  you  except 
for  what  I  am  obliged  to  eat.  I  know  you're  sorry  you 
married  me  1  I — I— — •" 

He  would  not  let  her  finish  the  sentence  she  had  be- 
gun, for  her  voice  had  risen  steadily  until  he  was  afraid 
Mrs.  Angus  would  hear  her.  He  did  not  want  her  to 
excite  herself  in  her  present  condition.  So  he  folded 
her  in  his  arms  again,  in  spite  of  her  protests,  and  said 
he  loved  her  with  all  his  heart  and  wanted  her  to  have 
everything  she  needed,  and  that  from  now  on  he  would 
anticipate  her  wants  and  see  that  her  purse  was  never 
empty.  In  the  most  delicate  way  he  alluded  to  the 
special  reason  why  she  must  not  give  way  to  her 
feelings,  and  finally  succeeded  in  quieting  her. 

He  really  held  her  very  dear  at  that  time.  She  was 
to  be  the  mother  of  his  child  and  her  person  was  sacred. 
Before  he  left  the  house  she  had  resumed  her  ordinary 
composure,  and  they  parted  as  affectionately  as  ever, 
he  promising  to  come  home  early  and  t»  make  no 
arrangements  to  leave  her  that  evening. 


164  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Fawcett  went  to  Mr.  Trask's  and  paid  the  bill  there, 
trying  to  act  in  a  manner  that  would  disarm  that  gentle« 
man  of  any  ugly  suspicions  he  might  have  formed.  He 
also  visited  Mme.  Celeste  and  the  shoemaker's  and 
the  candy  store,  and  when  this  was  done  returned  to 
his  office,  satisfied  that  he  was  again  square  with  the 
shopkeepers  of  Norwood.  When  he  received  small 
bills,  some  days  later,  from  a  jeweller,  who  had  mended 
a  chain,  a  druggist,  who  had  supplied  cologne  and 
other  articles  of  the  toilet,  and  a  baker,  who  had  fur- 
nished considerable  cake  and  bread  that  he  supposed 
baked  in  the  house,  Allan  thought  he  must  have  reached 
the  end  of  the  list.  But  later  there  came  a  bill  from  a 
hardware  dealer,  for  various  things  used  in  the  kitchen, 
from  a  furniture  man  for  repairs  on  the  sofa  on  which 
Fawcett  had  done  his  courting,  a  carpet-dealer,  for 
several  new  mats  that  he  had  never  noticed,  and  from 
half  a  dozen  other  tradesmen,  for  things  in  their  various 
lines,  Allan  paid  them  all,  without  mentioning  a  word 
to  Mabel  of  the  circumstance. 

The  total  figure  was  not  great,  and  the  most  he  cared 
for  was  the  fact  that  he  had  been  owing  these  bills 
without  any  knowledge  of  it.  The  worst  of  all  was 
thirty-five  cents  for  oranges,  charged  at  a  little  store 
one  day  when  the  regular  dealer  did  not  have  any  in 
stock. 

He  took  Mabel's  purse  from  the  table  in  their  bed- 
room and  put  twenty-five  dollars  in  it,  and  from  time  to 
time  inspected  it  to  see  that  it  did  not  get  too  low,  but 
she  seemed  to  have  had  enough  of  shopping  for  the 
present.  Indeed,  she  went  out  very  little  now  except 
when  he  was  with  her.  Their  lives  went  on  as  sweetly 
as  that  of  the  proverbial  kittens  in  the  basket.  And 
about  the  middle  of  the  summer,  when  the  air  of  Nor- 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  165 

wood  was  more  salubrious  than  that  of  Boston,  Mrs. 
Morey  came  for  the  first  time  to  visit  them. 

Mabel  had  hinted  to  her  mother  the  condition  she 
was  in,  and  with  true  maternal  solicitude  the  elder  lady 
wanted  to  give  her  advice  in  person.  The  meeting 
between  them  was  very  warm,  and  Fawcett,  who  had 
always  liked  Mrs.  Morey,  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
meeting  her.  After  having  had  a  prolonged  conver- 
sation with  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Morey  discussed  the 
situation  privately  with  her  son-in-iaw.  She  had  never 
heard  the  least  hint  of  any  of  the  disagreements  that 
had  occurred  between  him  and  Mabel,  and  was  delighed 
at  finding  him  so  elated  over  the  prospect.  There 
were  so  many  husbands  who  heard  of  this  sort  of  thing 
with  ill-concealed  disgust  that  it  was  a  relief  to  know 
the  state  of  his  mind. 

"  Of  course,  Mr.  Fawcett,"  she  said,  "  /would  rather 
this  had  happened  a  year  or  two  later.  Mabel  is  very 
young  to  pass  through  this  ordeal  and  assume  this 
responsibility.  However,  she  has  been  in  good  health, 
and  I  think  we  may  hope  for  the  best.  It  is  a  good 
time  while  I  am  here  to  make  all  the  preparations 
possible,  and  I  will  gladly  assist  in  every  way  with 
the  sewing.  Mabel  seems  to  feel  disinclined  to  talk 
with  you  about  that  matter,  so  if  you  like  I  will  go 
with  her  to  make  the  purchases,  and  do  exactly  as  if  it 
was  a  matter  of  my  own." 

Fawcett  answered  to  this  that  nothing  would  suit  him 
better.  He  would  give  Mrs.  Morey  whatever  she  should 
decide  was  necessary,  and  trust  implicitly  to  her  judg- 
ment. He  handed  her  fifty  dollars  on  the  spot,  which, 
he  thought  would  be  a  liberal  allowance,  and  said  when 
that  was  expended  she  must  tell  him  and  he  would 
provide  more.  The  widow  smiled  as  she  took  the  sum, 


106  JVCWV  FA  WCETT'S  MA9RL. 

remembering  the  time  before  Mabel's  birth,  and  the 
extravagant  amounts  that  were  lavished  on  the  conv 
ing  infant's  trousseau.  But  she  knew  that  Mr.  Fawcett 
had  not  as  yet  the  income  that  her  husband  then 
had,  and  also  that  he  was  inclined  to  economy, 
and  she  decided  to  make  the  money  go  as  far  as  she 
could. 

"  The  best  way,"  she  said  to  her  daughter,  a  fort- 
night later,  "  would  be  for  Mr.  Fawcett  to  give  us  an 
order  on  Mr.  Trask  to  get  whatever  we  need,  and  then 
have  the  bill  sent  to  him.  It  seems  foolish  to  have  to 
reckon  up  every  time  to  see  if  there  is  enough  money 
left  for  what  we  want." 

"  Allan  doesn't  like  to  owe  any  one,"  replied  Mabel. 
**  He  is  quite  set  about  it.  Ask  him  for  the  money. 
He  will  give  it  to  you,  and  then  he  will  be  better  satis- 
fied." 

Fawcett  was  lost  in  wonder  when  he  found  how  much 
his  future  heir  needed  in  advance  of  his — or  her — ap- 
pearance. Still,  his  delight  at  the  whole  affair  was  so 
great  that  he  forgot  everything  else,  and  opened  his 
pocket-book  freely  whenever  Mrs.  Morey  made  de- 
mands on  it.  The  sewing-machine  whirled  day  after 
day,  until  he  thought  a  ship's  crew  could  have  been  fit- 
ted out  with  the  product,  supposing  that  such  a  crew 
could  have  worn  any  of  the  tiny  things  manufactured. 
Mabel  did  little  except  sit  and  watch  her  mother  and 
comment  on  the  work  as  it  progressed.  She  did  not 
feel  like  exerting  herself,  and  now  that  her  mother  was 
present,  and  that  Mrs.  Angus  took  all  the  household 
work  from  her  shoulders,  she  became  in  effect  the  child 
of  yore,  and  was  quite  willing  to  have  others  do  every 
thing  for  her.  Mrs.  Morey  stayed  five  or  six  weeks  and 
then  returned  to  her  sister's  for  the  present,  as  she  was 


TT9UNG  PAWC&TT>S  AfABSL.  167 

to  accompany  that  lady  to  the  seashore.  She  promised 
to  come  back  in  the  winter  and  "  see  them  through,"  but 
Mabel  saw  her  depart  with  a  feeling  of  some  alarm,  fof 
she  had  constant  spasms  of  terror,  and  wanted  such  a 
confidential  friend  near  by.  It  was  agreed  that  she 
would  write  very  often  and  conceal  nothing  from  her 
mother,  and  with  this  understanding  they  had  to  be 
content. 

So  the  summer  passed  and  the  autumn,  and  Fawcett 
grew  happier  as  his  little  wife  grew  more  low-spirited 
and  apprehensive.  Business  had  been  only  fair  with 
him,  and  his  expenses  exceeded  any  estimate  he  had 
ever  made,  but  the  coming  event  cast  its  bright  mantle 
over  all. 

Among  the  news  that  reached  him  was  the  marriage 
of  Miss  Mattie  Burbank,  followed  by  the  failure  and 
subsequent  death  of  her  father.  He  remembered  Mat- 
tie  very  well,  and  he  had  an  idea  that  Mabel  did  not 
like  her,  but  when  she  told  him  of  her  cousin's  fortune, 
and  later  of  her  misfortune,  she  did  it  without  any 
apparent  feeling.  The  one  trouble  between  them  had 
been  caused  by  Mattie's  flirtation  with  the  man  Mabel 
wanted  to  marry,  and  that  could  not  occur  again,  of 
course,  now  they  were  both  provided  with  husbands. 
Mattie's  name  was  Mrs.  Algernon  Stuart.  Her  hus- 
band was  chiefly  noted  as  being  a  son  of  "old  Stuart," 
who  had  done  something  or  other  at  some  distant 
date. 

Fawcett  had  never  seen  Frank  Selden  since  the  af- 
fair of  the  dinner  at  his  rooms,  and  he  had  no  desire  to 
renew  his  acquaintance.  Once  in  awhile  the  recol- 
lection of  that  evening  came  to  sting  him,  for  he  was 
heartily  sorry  and  ashamed  on  account  of  it.  But  time 
passed  on  and  such  things  wear  away.  He  had  to* 


i68  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

important  a  matter  in  his  mind  now  to  think  of  much 
else. 

Mabel  and  Mabel's  baby!    They  were  enough  to 
tccupy  his  entire  attention. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  A  SMALL  BOY  ARRIVED." 

MABEL  FAWCETT  did  not  grow  more  angelic  as  the 
month  of  February  approached,  but  in  the  eyes  of  her 
husband  she  was  perfect.  Fretful,  fault-finding,  suited 
with  nothing  that  he  did,  or  that  any  one  else  did,  she 
might  have  worn  out  the  patience  of  a  saint,  but  she 
could  not  exhaust  that  of  her  husband.  He  left  the 
house  late  every  morning  and  returned  early  each  even- 
ing, beside  taking  two  hours  instead  of  one  at  noon, 
only  to  hear  the  oft-repeated  complaint  that  he  neglect- 
ed her.  He  never  entered  the  door  without  bringing 
something  that  he  thought  would  please  her — a  trinket, 
a  magazine,  a  bouquet,  or  a  basket  of  fruit ;  to  which 
she  generally  offered  some  objection,  demanding  some- 
thing else  that  could  not  be  found  at  that  season  or 
that  was  not  obtainable  in  Norwood.  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  Allan  to  do  anything  to  please  her  at  that  time. 
She  held  him  responsible  for  the  disagreeable  condi- 
tion in  which  she  found  herself,  and  told  him  many 
times  each  day,  often  with  tears,  that  she  could  not 
understand  why  a  man,  pretending  love  for  her,  could 
be  so  thoughtless. 

"  Do  you  doubt  that  I  love  you,  my  darling  ? "  he 
asked  driven  to  desperation. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  169 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  you  don't !  "  she  answered.  "  If  you 
did,  you  would  do  something  to  make  me  feel  better." 

Mrs.  Morey  returned  to  Norwood  early  in  January, 
and  used  sometimes  to  commiserate  her  son-in-law  on 
the  hard  treatment  to  which  he  was  subjected.  She  ex- 
plained to  him  the  irresponsibility  of  women  under  such 
circumstances,  and  said  he  ought  not  to  mind  the  cross 
words  that  his  wife  uttered  so  often.  To  this  Allan 
replied  that  he  was  far  from  minding  them ;  that  Mabel 
was  the  dearest  wife  a  man  could  dream  of,  and  that 
his  only  anxiety  was  for  her  safety.  A  medical  man 
who  was  called  in  cheered  him  by  repeating  a  proverb 
to  the  effect  that  danger  rarely  lies  where  ill-temper 
gets  control.  Fawcett  was  much  elated  at  this.  He 
was  perfectly  willing  his  wife  should  vent  any  amount 
of  spleen  on  him  provided  it  insured  her  own  se- 
curity. 

As  in  all  such  cases  there  were  alarms  innumerable. 
The  commission  merchant  hardly  knew  for  a  fortnight 
whether  hay  was  ten  dollars  a  ton  or  twenty.  His 
household  had  been  augmented  by  a  tall  and  angular 
nurse  named  Archer,  who  gave  evidence  of  her  inten- 
tion to  rule  like  a  despot.  He  was  hardly  allowed  to 
kiss  his  wife  after  this  tyrant  entered  his  door,  and  any 
prolonged  conversation  between  them  was  peremptorily 
forbidden.  As  all  the  others  of  the  family  were  of  the 
feminine  persuasion,  and  as  he  was  the  only  one  to  fall 
under  the  ban,  Fawcett  became  melancholy  and  refused 
to  eat  his  meals. 

The  doctor,  who,  as  is  customary,  was  allowed  to  run 
up  a  frightful  bill  long  before  the  wildest  imagination 
could  show  it  necessary,  saw  the  paleness  of  his  em- 
ployer's countenance  and  prescribed  beef,  wine  and 
iron,  which  was  bought,  but  not  taken.  And  when  tilt 


I ;o  YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

important  day  actually  arrived,  the  husband  was  given 
to  .understand  by  everybody  that  he  had  no  interest 
whatever  in  the  affair,  and  that  it  would  be  becoming 
in  him  to  maintain  a  position  of  non-interference  with 
what  was  no  concern  of  his. 

But,  to  save  his  life,  Allan  could  not  help  asking 
questions — now  of  the  doctor,  now  of  Mrs.  Morey,  as 
they  appeared  in  the  sitting  or  dining  room,  from  time 
to  time.  Once  he  went  so  far  as  to  address  an  inquiry 
to  Miss  Archer,  but  was  almost  annihilated  by  the  look 
she  gave  him,  while  her  compressed  lips  spoke  the 
volumes  she  did  not  utter.  About  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  he  heard  a  long  wail  from  the  sick  chamber.  It 
was  the  voice  of  his  beloved,  and  with  an  anguish  that 
could  have  been  hardly  less  than  hers  he  went  out 
into  the  yard  and  walked  up  and  down  a  path  shov- 
elled in  the  snow. 

"  Oh,  God !  "  he  groaned.  "  If  I  could  only  take  her 
suffering  on  myself !  " 

And  at  that  moment,  to  make  his  agony  the  keener, 
he  thought  of  the  supper  in  Frank  Selden's  rooms. 
Perhaps  God  would  punish  him  for  what  he  did  that 
night,  by  taking  his  wife  away !  Freezing  at  the 
thought,  though  he  had  no  sensation  of  the  atmosphere, 
he  knelt  in  the  snow  and  prayed.  He  was  not  used  to 
prayer,  but  a  more  feeling  petition  never  was  sent  from 
earth  to  heaven.  When  he  rose  he  could  not  help 
re-entering  the  house,  though  he  dreaded  to  hear  that 
voice  of  pain  again,  and  as  he  stepped  into  the  dining- 
room  Mrs.  Morey,  with  praiseworthy  thoughtfulness, 
came  and  grasped  his  hand. 

"  Allan,"  she  said,  "  you  are  the  father  of  a  boy  I " 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  addressed  him  by 
kit  Christian  name,  and  even  in  the  flood  of  joy  that 


YOUNG  FAWCETT' S  MABEL.  Ift 

swept  over  him  he  realized  that  fact.  Throwing  hif 
arms  around  the  lady's  neck  he  burst  into  tears. 

"  And  Mabel,  is  she  safe  ? "  he  asked,  as  soon  as  he 
could  command  his  voice. 

"  We  have  no  fears." 

«  When  can  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  That  is  for  the  doctor  to  say.  Have  patience,  my 
dear  boy,  and  I  will  bring  word  to  you." 

After  the  tears,  Fawcett  felt  a  reaction  that  led  him 
into  the  opposite  mood.  The  danger  was  really  over  ! 
He  was  a  father,  and  above  all  things  of  a  boy  1  His 
five  feet  nine  inches  grew  to  at  least  six  feet  one,  in 
the  next  four  minutes. 

He  was  beginning  to  think  himself  a  man  of  conse- 
quence in  the  world  when  Miss  Archer  passed  through 
the  room,  and  by  her  presence  reduced  him  to  his 
former  insignificant  rank.  What  is  a  newly-made 
father  compared  to  that  awful  dignity  represented  by  a 
nurse  of  her  description  ?  The  Tsar  of  all  the  Russias 
must  hide  his  diminished  head  before  the  nurse-extra- 
ordinary to  his  empress. 

It  was  Mabel,  in  her  exhaustion,  who  thought  of  her 
husband  next.  She  whispered  to  the  physician  that 
Allan  ought  to  see  the  little  bundle  which  had  been 
carefully  attended  to  and  was  now  lying  in  blankets  in 
the  adjacent  crib.  The  good-natured  doctor  braved 
the  threatening  looks  of  Miss  Archer,  who  glowered 
over  the  infant  as  if  she  were  a  lioness  and  this  was 
her  own  particular  cub.  Taking  it  in  his  arms,  he 
walked  out  to  the  sitting-room,  where  Fawcett  war 
pacing  up  and  down. 

"  Is  that  it  ? "  was  the  exclamation  which  the  fond 
papa  made,  when  the  image  was  duly  unveiled.  "  Not 
very  large  to  have  made  all  this  rumpus." 


Bf  t  »IW»  If  A  W€E  TTS  MABML. 

He  spoke  as  if  he  thought  it  a  very  small  dividend 
to  get  from  such  a  heavy  investment,  but  he  did 
not  deceive  the  doctor.  There  was  a  proud  look  in 
Fawcett's  eyes  as  he  bent  over  the  red-faced  little  fel- 
low and  tried  to  see  if  it  resembled  any  one  he  knew. 
He  was  not  the  first  new  father  to  act  before  third  par- 
ties as  if  he  had  had  fifty  children  and  considered  them 
very  ordinary  affairs. 

Now  that  the  danger  was  over  he  assumed  his  natural 
demeanor.  He  spoke  of  Mabel  and  was  assured  that 
she  would  be  around  in  a  week  or  two.  The  boy  had 
been  weighed  and,  to  use  a  sporting  phrase,  "  tipped 
the  beam  "  at  seven  pounds  and  a  half.  He  was  also, 
without  doubt,  to  borrow  another  expression  of  the 
fraternity,  "  in  the  pink  of  condition."  Allan  told  the 
doctor,  with  a  smile,  that  he  guessed  he  would  keep  it, 
and  pinched  the  boy's  cheek  softly  as  his  bearer  took 
him  away. 

As  Miss  Archer  set  her  foot  down — No.  6  D. — that 
he  should  not  see  Mabel  until  the  next  day,  Fawcett 
thought  he  might  as  well  try  to  get  a  little  rest.  He 
went  to  the  room  he  used  to  occupy, — the  one  to  which 
he  had  gone  that  night  when  he  and  his  wife  had  the 
difference  of  opinion  about  the  temperature — and  threw 
himself  on  the  sofa.  He  thought  it  all  over  as  he  lay 
there.  He  could  see  her  again — dear  little  woman  that 
she  was  ! — standing  in  the  dim  light  at  his  door,  dressed 
in  her  bed-gown,  telling  him  with  shivering  accents 
that  she  was  afraid  to  sleep  by  herself,  and  that  she 
thought  feathers  the  only  proper  thing.  What  a  wretch 
he  was  to  make  her  come  into  that  cold  room  when  she 
was  not  used  to  it,  just  to  prove  that  he  could  have  his 
way !  Fawcett  would  have  liked  to  punch  such  a  man 
in  the  head,  could  he  have  conveniently  done  so.  But 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  175 

Mabel  was  on  the  feathers  now — poor  girl! — and  I 
hard  bed  it  had  been  for  her,  at  that !  Dear  child ! 
How  he  loved  her!  And  she,  not  yet  twenty,  was 
really  a  mother ! 

He  fell  asleep  with  a  smile  on  his  lips  and  rested 
quietly  for  some  hours.  When  he  awoke  it  was  day- 
light. He  rose,  made  his  toilet,  and  went  downstairs. 
Mrs.  Morey,  who  had  retired  later,  was  not  yet  up,  and 
Miss  Archer  was  in  command  of  the  infantry  forces. 
Mrs.  Angus  served  him  his  eggs  and  coffee  and,  as 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  that  he  could  do  at  the 
house,  he  went  down  to  his  office  to  open  the  mail. 

A  rumor  of  the  arrival  at  his  residence  had  preceded 
him,  early  as  it  was,  for  the  doctor  had  been  seen  by  a 
watchman  on  his  way  home,  and  the  clerks  knew  that  the 
elastic  step— in  such  contrast  to  those  of  the  preceding 
days — could  have  but  one  meaning.  He  read  his 
letters  through,  including  one  that  asked  for  an  exten- 
sion of  time  on  an  over-due  account,  without  relinquish- 
ing the  smile  that  covered  his  face.  He  wrote  the 
necessary  answers,  and  after  he  had  consulted  with  his 
chief  employe  for  a  few  minutes  about  the  state  of 
business  he  told  him  what  had  happened,  leaving  him 
to  tell  the  others  if  he  wished. 

"  A  small  boy  arrived  at  my  house  last  night,  Bar- 
rett. The  mother  and  child  are  doing  well." 

Mr.  Barrett  tendered  his  congratulations,  and  being 
of  a  mercenary  turn,  managed  to  get  a  raise  of  three 
dollars  a  week  on  his  salary  before  he  allowed  Fawcett 
to  escape. 

The  first  interview  that  Fawcett  had  with  his  wife 
was  very  sweet  and  tender.  He  secured  the  consent 
of  the  doctor  to  see  her  alone  for  ten  minutes,  promis- 
ing to  be  very  careful  not  to  agitate  her  in  any  way. 


174  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  HABEL. 

Miss  Archer,  who  allowed  no  person  except  the  physi- 
cian even  to  make  a  suggestion  to  her,  stalked  out  of  the 
bedroom  with  an  air  of  offended  majesty,  and  Allan, 
who  stood  by  the  door  through  which  she  made  her 
exit,  closed  it  behind  her. 

"  Isn't  it  funny  ? "  said  Mabel,  laughing  faintly.  "  It 
makes  me  think  of  Rider  Haggard's  '  She.'  Well,  what 
do  you  think  of  my  baby  ? " 

He  drew  a  chair  to  the  side  of  the  bed  and  told  he« 
he  thought  it  was,  on  the  whole,  the  finest  child  ever 
brought  into  this  world.  He  could  hardly  believe  it 
was  really  hers.  It  seemed  as  if  it  must  have  been 
smuggled  into  the  house,  like  some  of  those  children  one 
reads  of  in  history. 

"  It  didn't  seem  that  way  to  me,"  she  said,  with  a 
comical  grimace,  at  the  same  time  pulling  him  down 
where  she  could  kiss  him.  "  But  the  first  thing  I  want 
you  to  do  is  to  forgive  me." 

"Forgive  her!    What  for?" 

"  For  being  so  cross  and  hateful  so  long.  I  knew 
nil  the  while  I  was,  but  I  really  couldn't  help  it  Oh, 
I  felt  so  dreadfully!  There  wasn't  a  time,  dear, 
yhen  I  snapped  you  up  that  I  wasn't  ashamed  of  it  ; 
and  when  you  answered  me  so  nice  and  tried  to  please 
me  in  every  way,  I  loved  you  more  than  I  can  tell. 
But  that's  over  now.  I'll  never  do  it  again." 

He  assured  her  that  he  appreciated  the  case  fully, 
and  perpetrated  a  little  joke  anent  her  promise  never 
to  repeat  the  offence.  But  she  reiterated  the  state- 
ment, and  this  time  quite  soberly,  that  she  never 
would — no,  never  !  Nothing  should  ever  happen  again 
to  bring  unpleasant  things  to  her  husband. 

"And  the  baby!"  she  added.  "You  don't  talk 
enough  about  him  I" 


YOVNC  FA  WCSTT'S  MABEL.  175 

He  took  the  sleeping  child  from  its  crib,  though  this 
had  not  been  included  in  the  permission  under  which 
he  was  acting,  and  laid  it  by  its  mother,  declaring  them 
the  handsomest  pair  on  which  he  had  ever  set  eyes. 
Then  they  talked  of  important  things  in  which  the 
reader  of  this  novel  can  have  no  interest,  until  he  be* 
gan  to  realize  that  his  ten  minutes  was  about  to  expire. 
He  put  the  baby  back  in  its  crib,  with  a  lame  attempt 
to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  had  touched  it. 

"  Where  the  deuce  did  the  doctor  find  that  griffin  ? " 
he  inquired,  glancing  apprehensively  toward  the  door. 
"  She  puts  on  more  style  than  an  alderman." 

"  Mamma  says  they're  always  that  way,"  Mabel 
laughed.  "  She's  smart,  though.  One  of  the  best." 

"  And  how  long  does  she  consider  herself  entitled  to 
hang  around  here  and  spoil  ray  disposition  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"A  month,  I  think." 

Fawcett  put  on  a  look  of  rage  and  was  executing  an 
imaginary  decapitation  of  the  Archer  when  that  indi- 
vidual, stiff  as  ever,  stalked  back  into  the  chamber  and 
put  an  end  to  the  sdance.  He  wafted  a  salute  with  his 
fingers  to  his  wife,  which  act  the  nurse  seemed  to  take 
as  a  personal  affront,  for  she  turned  toward  him  and 
sniffed  audibly;  upon  which  he  vanished  from  the 
apartment  without  ceremony. 

Before  the  month  was  over  Mr.  Frank  Selden  made 
an  unexpected  appearance  at  Norwood.  His  time  was 
certainly  well  chosen,  for  it  would  have  been  well-nigh 
impossible  for  Fawcett  to  show  much  resentment  to  any 
one  during  that  period.  Selden  had  given  no  notice  of 
his  intention  to  come,  but  dove  suddenly  into  Allan's 
office  one  morning  and  clapped  his  whilom  partner  oa 
the  shoulder. 


1 76  YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

"Gad,  old  fellow  1  What  a  fatherly-looking  chap 
you  are ! " 

If  there  had  been  any  question  of  his  reception,  the 
form  of  this  exclamation  saved  him.  Fawcett  took  the 
extended  hand,  though  perhaps  not  very  warmly  at 
first,  and  answered  the  questions  that  were  put  to  him. 
Selden  was  at  his  best,  saying  just  the  right  things. 
He  even  declared,  with  an  appearance  of  candor,  that 
he  quite  envied  Fawcett  his  happiness,  and  that  the 
only  true  life  for  a  man  to  lead  was  that  of  marriage. 

"  Here  I  am,"  he  said,  "  knocking  around  from  one 
girl  to  another  and  raising  hell,  and  what  does  it 
all  amount  to  ?  It  is  a  thousand  times  more  sensible 
to  settle  down  as  you  have  done  with  one  nice  woman 
and  see  your  children  growing  up  about  you.  By  the 
way,  how's  business  ? " 

Somewhat  surprised  at  the  sudden  change  of  subject, 
Allen  replied  that  business  was  fair. 

"  I  mat  Decker  the  last  time  I  was  in  New  York," 
said  Frank,  "  and  he  told  me  he  would  take  you  into 
his  firm  any  time.  I  can't  see  why  a  man  should 
moon  his  life  away  in  this  village  when  he  can  get  a 
chance  like  that." 

Decker  &  Co.  were  large  wholesale  dealers  in  the 
produce  line,  and  Fawcett  had  had  considerable  to  do 
with  them. 

"  Mr.  Decker  didn't  mention  anything  about  his  con. 
ditions,  I  suppose,"  replied  Allan.  "  He  didn't  say 
that  I  would  have  to  put  up  $25,000,  did  he?" 

Selden  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if  that  was  a  mere 
incident. 

"  You  don't  pretend  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  raise 
that  amount  for  such  a  purpose,  do  you  ? "  he  said* 
"The  concern  is  a  stock  company,  and  by  pledging  the 


YOUNG  FA  WCBTTS  MABEL.  177 

shares  you  could  easily  get  the  coin.  Why,  I'd  lend 
it  to  you  myself." 

It  was  a  generous  proposition,  it  seemed  to  Fawcett, 
and  he  began  to  reproach  himself  for  the  hard  feelings 
he  had  entertained  toward  this  man.  But  the  thought 
of  going  so  deeply  into  debt  frightened  him.  Even  the 
$3,000  that  he  still  owed  made  him  uneasy  at  times, 
though  he  could  pay  it  at  a  week's  notice,  and  still  have 
$5,000  or  $6,000  left.  He  told  Selden  that  he  could 
not  think  of  accepting  such  an  offer,  but  that  if  Mr. 
Decker  ever  gave  him  a  chance  to  get  in  by  any  other 
way  he  would  take  it.  He  admitted  that  Norwood  did 
not  offer  quite  the  field  he  wanted. 

"You  haven't  asked  a  word  about  Gretchen,"  said 
Selden,  when  they  had  disposed  of  the  New  York  affair. 

Fawcett  reddened  violently. 

"Never  speak  to  me  about  that  matter,"  he  said, 
choking. 

"  About  the  matter — no.  But  about  Gretchen,  why, 
any  one  can  speak  about  her.  She  has  asked  after  you 
twenty  times.  Gretchen  is  as  good  as  a  saint.  If  it 
was  Sadie,  now " 

Allan  rose  from  his  chair  and  lifted  both  hands  in 
protest. 

"  If  you  knew  how  horribly  unhappy  that  has  made 
me  you  would  never  bring  it  up,  Frank,"  he  said,  with 
feeling.  "  Sometimes  when  I  look  at — at  Mabel,  and 
— and  the  baby— and  think  of  that  night,  it  seems  as  if 
I  should  go  mad.  I  thought  the  next  day  I  never 
could  live  long  enough  to  forgive  you ;  but,  after  all, 
it  was  my  own  fault.  If  Mabel  should  ever  find  it  out, 
what  do  you  think  would  become  of  me  ? " 

His  suffering  was  so  evident  that  Selden  soothed 
him,  thinking  it  the  best  policy  not  to  excite  him  too 
la 


178  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MA9E*. 

far.  At  noon  they  went  together  to  Fawcetfs  house, 
where,  before  the  dinner  was  served,  the  baby  had  to 
be  brought  forth  and  exhibited  to  its  second  cousin. 
Frank  praised  the  child  with  well-selected  phrases,  and 
its  fond  papa  forgot  the  unpleasant  allusions  of  an 
hour  before.  Mabel  was  not  yet  on  exhibition,  except 
to  her  immediate  family  circle,  but  Frank  sent  con- 
gratulations to  her  and  said  he  would  come  to  Norwood 
again  in  a  month  or  two  to  see  how  she  looked  as  a 
full-fledged  mamma.  He  was  so  jolly  at  the  table  that 
he  nearly  forced  a  smile  to  the  face  of  Miss  Archer, 
and  when  he  took  the  Boston  train  at  night  Allan  was 
really  sorry  to  have  him  go. 

"  Don't  entirely  give  up  that  idea  of  Decker's,"  said 
Frank.  "  You  can  just  as  well  make  a  hundred  thou- 
sand there  in  the  next  ten  years,  as  you  can  ten  thou- 
sand here.  You  are  too  conservative  to  do  business  in 
such  days  as  these.  The  big  firms  are  skimming  all 
the  cream  for  themselves,  and  this  chance  is  one  in  a 
million.  Decker  has  a  high  opinion  of  you,  and  he 
only  wants  the  $25,000  just  for  the  looks  of  the  thing. 
Well,  if  you  come  around  to  it,  remember  you  can 
rely  on  me." 

Fawcett  thanked  him  warmly,  and  promised  to  think 
about  it,  though  he  did  not  mean  anything  special  by 
that.  It  was  nice  to  have  such  a  good  friend,  with 
such  a  full  purse,  at  his  elbow,  in  case  of  necessity, 
though.  Frank  was  not  half  as  bad  as  he  had  pictured 
him.  If  his  morals  would  only  improve  he  would  be 
all  that  could  be  desired. 

The  end  of  the  stay  of  Miss  Archer  came  at  last 
and  both  Mabel  and  her  husband  saw  her  vinegary 
countenance  disappear  with  great  glee.  Mrs.  Morey 
did  not  remain  long  after  her,  and  by  the  first  of  May 


YOUNS  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  179 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fawcett  were  left  alone  in  their  house, 
with  their  son  and  Mrs.  Angus. 

Nothing  unusual  happened  during  the  summer  that 
followed.  Mabel  had  regained  her  full  strength  and 
looked  about  as  pretty  and  young  as  ever.  Allan 
divided  his  time  between  his  office  and  home,  in  the 
old  way.  He  was  wrapped  up  in  his  baby,  and  never 
seemed  to  tire  of  playing  with  it,  or  even  of  getting  up 
in  the  night  and  walking  the  floor  with  it  if  it  cried. 
His  was  the  proud  discovery  of  its  first  tooth  ;  his  the 
primary  announcement  that  it  could  actually  bear  its 
weight  on  its  feet ! 

Everything  seemed  to  go  as  smoothly  as  could  be 
desired,  till  one  day  there  came  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Mattie  Stuart,  «&  Burbank,  that  she  was  coming  to 
pay  her  cousin  a  visit. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

WANTED— A   DIVORCE. 

MARRIAGE  had  made  little  change  in  the  personal 
appearance  of  Mrs.  Stuart.  She  might  have  still  been 
Mattie  Burbank,  for  all  that  any  one  could  tell  by 
looking  at  her.  But  in  reality  she  was  as  different 
from  the  girl  of  two  years  before  as  could  well  be. 
Her  union  was  in  all  respects  a  dismal  failure,  and  she 
had  not  been  many  days  at  Norwood  before  she  made 
Mrs.  Fawcett  her  complete  confidante  in  regard  to  that 
matter. 

Stuart  was,  as  has  been  before  intimated,  the  scion 
of  a  respectable  family,  but  without  any  particular 
merit  of  his  own.  He  had  been  educated  to  do 


j8o  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

nothing,  and  in  that  accomplishment  took  a  very  high 
rank.  His  father  had  little  confidence  in  his  business 
judgment  and  left  him  only  a  small  income,  of  which 
he  never  could  touch  the  principal.  This  was  unknown 
to  Mattie  at  the  time  she  accepted  his  hand.  She 
knew  Mr.  Stuart,  Sr.,  had  considerable  property,  and 
supposed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the  son  had  his 
full  share.  On  his  part,  he  was  attracted  quite  as 
much  by  the  wealth  which  Mr.  Burbank  was  reputed 
to  have,  as  by  the  charms  of  his  prospective  bride.  It 
was  a  not  uncommon  case  of  being  deceived  on  both 
sides,  and  neither  could  well  task  the  other  with  a 
fault  in  which  both  had  indulged. 

When  Mr.  Burbank  went  into  bankruptcy,  young 
Stuart  was  disgusted.  He  told  his  wife,  for  the  first 
time,  the  condition  of  his  own  affairs,  and  intimated 
that  as  there  was  hardly  enough  for  himself  in  the 
income  he  received,  she  must  not  expect  that  a  great 
deal  of  it  would  be  lavished  on  her.  "  If  there  was 
enough  for  two,  Mattie,"  he  said  with  admirable 
candor,  "  I  would  willingly  divide ;  but  as  there  is 
only  enough  for  one — it  is  natural  that  /should  be  the 
one." 

The  girl  had  never  been  in  love  with  her  husband, 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  this  increased  the  affection  she 
was  trying  to  show.  Stuart  was  not  an  agressively  bad 
man,  he  was  simply  negatively  so.  To  all  her  indig- 
nant speeches  and  to  her  tearful  pleas  that  he  would 
do  something  to  earn  a  living  for  himself  and  wife, 
he  made  few  replies  and  no  promises.  He  was  as 
far  from  protesting  against  her  attitude  as  he  was 
from  doing  anything  to  satisfy  her  requests.  Ho 
would  not  have  denied  that  she  was  entirely  right  io 
her  position.  It  was  merely  a  series  of  unfortuoat* 


FA  WCE  rrs  MABEL.  18 1 

circumstances  that  had  placed  them  where  they  were, 
As  to  seeking  employment,  why,  of  course,  he  couldn't 
do  it.  He  did  not  know  enough  even  to  drive  a 
horse-car.  He  was  in  a  state  of  chronic  weariness, 
from  which  he  could  only  arouse  himself  enough  to 
play  an  occasional  game  of  billiards  or  poker,  which 
he  invariably  lost. 

"  I  tell  you,  Mabel,  it  is  a  hard  place  to  be  put  in," 
sighed  Mattie,  her  spirits  crushed  by  her  misfortunes. 
"  There  have  been  days  when  he  has  left  me  without  a 
cent,  and  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house.  I  have  actually 
had  to  go  to  call  on  friends,  in  the  hope  that  they  would 
ask  me  to  dinner.  And  when  he  comes  back  he 
simply  says  he  met  some  fellows  in  whom  he  got  inter- 
ested, and  forgot  all  about  me  for  forty-eight  hours 
or  so." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  listened  with  deep  sympathy.  She  had 
had  her  little  troubles,  too,  but  Allan  had  never  acted 
like  that.  He  had  too  great  a  regard  for  money  to  let 
it  take  care  of  itself  as  Stuart  did.  And  never  had  he 
been  out  all  night  except  when  she  knew  he  was  going 
and  where. 

a  You  don't  think,  I  hope,"  she  said,  with  a  blush, 
"  that  there  is  any  other  woman  who  attracts  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  doesn't  know  enough  for  that !  "  retorted 
Mattie.  "  I  don't  see  what  he  ever  got  married  for. 
It  must  have  been  entirely  with  a  view  to  the  fortune 
he  thought  he  would  get  through  me.  No,  he  never 
looks  toward  a  bit  of  calico,  as  the  saying  is.  A  crowd 
of  disreputable  fellows  in  some  saloon  is  the  highest 
form  of  vice  he  follows.  If  I  catch  him  at  the  moment 
he  is  paid  his  monthly  income,  by  the  executors  of  his 
father's  property,  I  get  a  little  of  it.  If  I  am  an  hour 
late,  a  good  share  is  gone. ' 


lg«  YO  UNO  FA  WCE  TT*S  MABRL* 

Mabel  realized  how  hard  it  was  for  Mattie  to  confess 
all  these  things,  for  she  had  been  brought  up  to  have 
everything  she  asked  for,  and  her  family  had  lived  like 
nabobs  till  the  crash  came.  It  gratified  her  also  to  feel 
that  she  had  been  selected  as  a  confidante,  when  Mattie 
assured  her  that  she  had  not  even  told  her  own  mother 
half  the  story.  Mrs.  Burbank  had  gone  to  live  with 
another  married  daughter  in  a  distant  part  of  the  coun- 
try, and  if  she  suspected  that  Stuart  was  not  what  he 
should  be,  she  had  at  least  only  a  faint  notion  of  th« 
whole  truth.  To  have  told  her  would  have  been  to 
give  her  needless  distress,  as  she  was  entirely  pen- 
niless herself.  Mr.  Burbank  had  made  the  mistake, 
too  common  in  the  United  States,  of  trying  to  double 
his  entire  fortune  in  one  move  on  the  financial  board, 
and  had  seen  it  swept  away  as  swiftly  as  if  a  croupier 
at  roulette  had  reached  out  his  rake  for  it.  Broken- 
hearted at  his  losses  he  did  not  long  survive  them,  and 
there  was  not  even  a  life  insurance  policy  for  the  un- 
happy heirs. 

"  You  won't  lisp  a  word  to  Mr.  Fawcett,  will  you  ?  " 
Mattie  would  often  say,  when  she  had  finished  some 
tale  of  her  husbacd's  neglect.  "  I  would  not  tell  it  to 
any  one  but  you,  and  I  always  put  on  the  gayest  ap 
pearance  before  him.  I  am  glad  you  and  he  are  so 
happy  together,  though  it  makes  such  a  contrast  to  my 
own  condition.  Your  motlier  was  right  when  she 
wanted  you  to  marry  a  mr.n  with  correct  habits  rather 
than  one  who  inherited  a  fortune  made  by  others.  If 
I  had  done  the  same  thing  I  should  not  now  be  worse 
off  than  either  an  old  maid  or  a  widow." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  said  all  she  could  to  comfort  her  cousin, 
but  there  was  little  of  hat  nature  at  hand. 

"  Will  he  come  here  to  visit  you  ?  "  she  asked,  on« 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  xfig 

day,  when  they  had  been  discussing  the  everlasting 
subject. 

"  No,  indeed !  It  is  doubtful  if  he  thinks  of  me  once 
a  week,  even  to  remember  that  I  am  living." 

"  I  can't  help  saying  I  am  glad  he  won't  come,"  said 
Mabel.  "I  detest  him  so  much  that  I'm  afraid  I 
couldn't  treat  him  decently.  And  yet,  bad  as  he  acts, 
whatever  he  does,  he  is  none  the  less  your  husband. 
When  Allan  has  to  go  to  Boston,  or  to  New  York,  for 
just  a  night  or  two,  I  think  it  weeks  before  he  returns." 

The  young  wife  reddened  as  she  said  this.  It  took 
very  little  to  color  the  cheek  of  pretty,  modest  Mrs. 
Fawcett. 

Mattie  divined  the  thought  that  had  nearly  been  put 
into  words,  and  a  slight  shiver  passed  over  her. 

"  If  Algy  Stuart  were  to  come  here  to-night,"  she 
said,  shutting  her  lips  firmly  together,  "  he  could  not 
occupy  the  room  with  me.  No,  if  there  was  no  other 
place,  I  would  sleep  on  the  parlor  floor  or  walk  the 
kitchen  till  morning ! " 

Mabel  opened  her  eyes  in  real  grief. 

"  Poor  girl ! "  she  whispered.  "  Don't  tell  me  any 
more  like  that.  It  makes  me  feel  so  badly  I  can  hardly 
keep  from  crying." 

"  You  are  a  happy  wife,"  said  Mattie,  choking  down 
a  sob,  "and  I  am  wrong  to  trouble  you  with  my 
distresses.  In  the  future  I  will  do  it  as  little  as  I  can 
help.  Ah,  I  hear  Cecil !  He  has  awakened  and  found 
himself  all  alone  and  wants  some  one  to  come  to  him. 
No,  don't  move.  I  like  to  be  the  first  one  he  sees 
when  he  opens  his  eyes." 

Cecil  had  not  cried  a  great  deal,  just  enough  to  sound 
the  only  alarm  that  he  knew  how  to  manipulate.  When 
he  saw  Mattie  he  laughed  and  put  up  his  chubby  hands 


I«4  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TrS  MABEL. 

for  her  to  take  him.  He  was  now  ten  months  old  and 
a  very  lovable  little  fellow.  I  state  this  on  the  unim- 
peachable authority  of  both  his  parents,  who,  with  all 
their  disagreements,  first  and  last,  were  a  unit  on  this 
point. 

"  Look  at  the  young  scamp  ! "  exclaimed  Mattie,  as 
she  brought  him  into  the  sitting-room  a  few  minutes 
later,  with  his  face  washed  and  his  hair  nicely  combed. 
"No,  he  doesn't  want  any  one  to  take  him  but  his 
aunt,  does  you,  titbits  ?  " 

She  tossed  the  child  up  and  down  until  he  screamed 
with  laughter,  and  then,  declaring  that  he  had  a  cold, 
cruel,  heartless  mother,  who  had  weaned  him  much  too 
soon,  she  went  with  him  to  the  dining-room,  where  she 
installed  him  in  a  high-chair  and  was,  a  moment  later, 
engaged  in  putting  bread  and  milk  into  his  mouth  with 
a  spoon. 

The  wife  of  Allan  Fawcett  watched  her  cousin's 
actions  with  a  sad  heart.  Dear  Mattie,  how  she  did 
love  children !  And  she  never  would  have  one  of  her 
own,  never  1  Mabel  knew  that  the  crown  of  a  woman's 
life  was  to  see  her  own  baby  in  her  lap,  and  the  atti- 
tude that  Mattie  assumed  toward  her  worthless  husband 
seemed  to  her  the  bitterest  drop  in  the  cup  she  had  to 
drink.  To  be  a  wife — and  to  be  no  wife  ;  to  call  some 
man  "  husband "  and  be  barred  by  an  ironical  fate 
from  all  that  this  implied  !  It  was  simply  more  than 
any  woman  ought  to  be  asked  to  endure.  If  it  was  her 
case,  Mabel  thought,  she  could  never  bear  it.  Allan 
had  done  exasperating  things  during  the  first  few 
months  of  her  married  life,  but  he  had  always  shown 
himself  a  man.  She  resolved  to  advise  Mattie  to  con- 
salt  a  lawyer  and  see  if  a  divorce  was  not  practicable. 

A  woman  did  not  know  what  life  was  till  she  had 


Y6U2V1S  FA  WCXTT'S  MABEL.  iSg 

had  a  child.  One  was  enough — Mabel  had  no  question 
in  her  mind  about  that — but  every  woman  should  have 
one.  To  bear  it  to  such  a  husband  as  Algernon  Stuart 
was  not  to  be  thought  of,  and  Mattie  was  right  in  the 
position  she  had  undertaken.  He  was  worse  than  a 
highwayman  who  stops  people  on  the  road  and  takes 
their  purses.  He  had  robbed  his  wife  of  the  right  to 
love  some  other  man — he  had  placed  her  on  a  desolate 
island  and  destroyed  the  boats  by  which  she  might 
escape.  Mabel  wished  she  could  talk  with  Allan  about 
Mattie's  case,  but  her  promise  held  her  tongue.  Mrs. 
Stuart  had  said  emphatically  that  she  should  sink  with 
shame  if  he  ever  heard  the  least  intimation  of  it. 

There  was  one  thing  that  Mabel  could  do,  however, 
and  she  decided  that  she  would  do  that.  She  could 
go  to  a  lawyer  and  put  a  hypothetical  case  to  him,  and 
see  if  he  could  not  suggest  a  remedy.  And  this  she 
proceeded  to  do  the  first  time  an  opportunity  presented 
itself  to  get  down  town  alone. 

Squire  Crue,  who  gave  out  the  law  to  Norwood,  was 
an  elderly  gentleman  of  portly  mien.  He  had  never 
shone  as  a  pleader  in  the  courts,  but  his  task  had  been 
perhaps  of  more  advantage  to  the  community,  for  he 
had  a  reputation  as  a  peacemaker,  and  nearly  always 
succeeded  in  getting  his  clients  to  settle  their  differ- 
ences without  resorting  to  a  jury  trial.  He  knew  Mrs. 
Fawcett  by  sight,  and  when  she  entered  his  office  and 
said  she  wanted  a  few  minutes'  conversation,  he  bowed 
with  the  air  of  a  very  fat  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  crossed 
his  hands  over  his  paunch  in  an  attitude  of  expectancy. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you,"  she  said,  her  voice  shaking 
slightly,  "  if  a  woman  can  get  a  divorce  from  a  hus- 
band who  hardly  gives  her  anything  and  spends  all  hie 
time  ami  money  with  other  people/' 


186  YOUNG  FAWCETFS  MABRL. 

Squire  Crue  smiled  benignantly  and  remarked  that 
he  could  hardly  answer  a  question  like  that  by  a  yes 
or  no.  He  said  he  must  have  a  fuller  statement  of 
the  case. 

"  Well,"  said  Mabel,  gaining  confidence  now  that  the 
first  ordeal  was  over,  "  it  is  this  way.  He  married  his 
wife,  thinking  her  people  had  money,  and  when  he 
found  they  hadn't  he  said  that  he  hadn't  much,  either. 
And  he  neglects  her,  and  sometimes  doesn't  bring  any- 
thing home  for  her  to  eat;  and  she  goes  away  for 
weeks  at  a  time  and  he  doesn't  come  to  see  her,  nor 
seem  to  care  where  she  is  nor  what  she  does." 

There  was  an  infantile  strain  in  this  presentation  of 
the  case  that  struck  Mr.  Crue  forcibly.  He  replied 
that  the  law  was  seldom  understood  by  married  women, 
and  that  he  would  try  to  show  just  what  it  did  and  did 
not  provide  for.  Then  he  went  on  to  tell  her  that  a 
husband  could  be  made  to  support  his  wife,  but  that 
each  instance  would  be  considered  on  its  own  merits  by 
the  judge  before  whom  it  was  brought.  "  The  amount 
she  is  to  receive  from  her  husband  must  depend  en- 
tirely," he  said,  in  closing,  "  on  his  ability." 

"  But  this  man  hasn't  any,"  said  Mrs.  Fawcett. 

"  Hasn't  any  what  ?  "  ' 

"  Any  ability." 

"In  that  case,  supposing  it  to  be  strictly  true," 
smiled  the  squire,  "  he  would  probably  be  sent  to  an 
asylum." 

"  And  she  could  get  a  divorce !  "  cried  Mabel,  joy- 
fully. 

"  M-m,  that  does  not  follow,"  replied  Mr.  Crue. 
"  It  depends  on  a  variety  of  circumstances.  A  wife's 
opinion  of  her  husband's  ability  might  not  agree  with 
that  of  a  commissioner  in  lunacy.  I  am  sure,  to  come 


YOVNG  FAWCETrS  MABKL.  ffty 

down  to  the  case  in  point,  that  Mr.  Fawcett  is  a  long 
way  from  an  imbecile." 

At  the  mention  of  Allan's  name  Mabel  caught  her 
breath. 

"  Mr.  Fawcett ! "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes.     You  are  Mrs.  Fawcett,  I  believe." 

There  was  a  riddle  here  that  could  not  be  solved  for 
the  moment  by  the  young  head  in  which  it  had  been 
placed. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  she,  "  what  my  husband 
has  to  do  with  this  matter  ?  " 

It  was  the  lawyer's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"  I  thought,"  he  said,  "  that  you  wanted  a  divorce." 

Mabel  gathered  up  her  dress  and  rose  to  her  feet 
It  seemed  as  if  some  awful  danger  hung  over  her  head, 
and  over  Allan's,  and  over  the  baby's.  Wanted  a 
divorce !  She  !  What  did  Squire  Crue  mean  ? 

The  Squire  rose  also,  much  perplexed. 

"  Were  you  not  speaking  of  yourself  ? "  he  asked. 

"Of  myself  1  You  thought  /wanted — why,  what  a 
frightful  idea !  No,  indeed !  It  will  be  a  long  time 
before  you  ever  see  me  here  on  an  errand  like  that  1  I 
was  asking  for  a  friend  of  mine,  who  lives  in  another 
city.  I  should  think,  if  you  knew  Mr.  Fawcett  at  all, 
you  would  know  I  couldn't  be  talking  of  him  /  Why, 
you  gave  me  such  a  shock  I  hardly  know  what  to 
do!" 

Quite  overcome,  Mrs.  Fawcett  sat  down  again  to 
compose  her  nerves,  while  Squire  Crue  made  the  best 
apology  he  could  command.  It  was  very  unusual,  he 
said,  for  a  woman  to  ask  advice  on  such  a  matter 
for  a  third  person.  He  then  inquired  if  the  friend  for 
whom  the  information  was  sought  lived  in  that  State, 
and  on  finding  that  her  legal  residence  was  Ohio,  he 


l8S  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

said  that  made  a  difference,  for  the  laws  of  the  States 
differed  materially.  By  the  time  he  had  taken  down 
several  books  and  read  a  number  of  paragraphs  aloud, 
Mrs.  Fawcett  came  to  the  conclusion  that  law  was  a 
very  bungling  thing,  and  that  she  certainly  had  not  the 
head  to  understand  it.  So  she  told  the  lawyer  she 
would  have  to  go,  and  that  she  was  very  much  obliged, 
and  when  she  had  paid  the  small  fee  he  asked,  she 
went  home  and  told  Mattie  what  she  had  done. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  her  cousin,  "  but  I  looked 
into  all  that  before  I  left  Cleveland.  I  couldn't  get  a 
divorce  unless  he  actually  deserted  me,  and  I  don't 
think  he  could  be  induced  to  do  that.  At  present,  it  is 
I  who  have  deserted  him.  Perhaps  I  could  get  a 
part  of  his  income  made  over  to  me  by  applying  to  the 
court,  but  it  would  cause  a  public  scandal,  and  if  mamma 
heard  of  it,  to  say  nothing  of  the  hundreds  of  people  I 
have  associated  with,  it  would  kill  me  with  shame. 
There's  nothing  to  be  done  but  endure  my  punish- 
ment. I  would  give  anything  if  I  didn't  have  to  go 
back  to  him,  though  ! " 

Mabel's  sympathy  was  so  thoroughly  aroused  that  she 
set  her  little  head  to  work  in  hopes  at  least  to  mitigate 
the  trouble  of  her  friend.  Allan  was  perfectly  willing 
that  Mattie  should  stay  at  his  house  indefinitely,  for 
the  baby's  love  for  her  went  straight  to  his  most  sus- 
ceptible spot  He  did  not  know  anything  about 
Stuart,  and  was  unlikely  ever  to  meet  him.  It  looked 
easy  enough  to  invent  a  story  about  Algy  having  to  go 
to  some  foreign  place  where  the  climate  was  not  suit- 
able for  his  wife,  and  of  leaving  her  with  the  Fawcetts 
during  his  absence. 

And  this  is  exactly  what  Mabel  did.  She  quieted 
fctr  conscience  by  saying  it  was  a  perfectly  harmless 


YOUNG  FA  WCETrS  MABEL.  189 

fie,  and  that  the  case  was  a  desperate  one.  If  it  ever 
was  exposed  she  felt  sure  Allan  would  say  she  had 
done  entirely  right.  No  member  of  the  Society  of 
Jesus  ever  argued  with  neater  casuistry  than  this  un- 
sophisticated young  woman. 

It  was  delightful  for  Mattie  to  have  this  home  pro- 
vided for  her,  and  she  was  not  the  one  to  refuse  to 
accept  it  on  the  terms  offered.  She  wrote  occasional 
letters  to  Mr.  Stuart,  and  sometimes  he  answered 
them,  but  the  burden  of  her  communications  was  ad- 
vice for  him  to  keep  away,  which  he  religiously  fol- 
lowed. Several  times  in  the  next  year  he  sent  her 
small  sums  of  money,  which  she  needed  too  much 
to  refuse.  In  fact  all  went  on  as  smoothly  as  life 
on  a  steamer  that  has  lost  its  bearings  and  is  headed 
directly  for  a  rocky  shore. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"HE  MUST  BE  A  PARAGON." 

THAT  winter  business  at  Norwood  did  not  go  to  suit 
Allan  Fawcett.  It  was  true,  as  Frank  had  said,  that 
the  big  fish  in  this  business  were  bound  to  eat  up 
the  small  ones.  When  Master  Cecil  was  a  little  over 
a  year  old  there  came  a  series  of  disasters  that  nearly 
made  his  papa  insolvent.  Fawcett  came  home  one 
evening,  pale  and  dispirited,  and  told  Mabel  that  he 
did  not  know  whether  he  was  worth  a  dollar  in  the 
world  or  not 

"  If  I  were  to  pay  Frank  the  money  I  owe  him,"  said 
he,  "  I  do  not  think  I  would  have  enough  left  to  buy  a 
breakfast  to-morrow  morning.  Everything  has  goa* 


J9«       YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

wrong.  Three  or  four  thousand  dollars  more  might 
enable  me  to  get  out  of  my  scrape,  but  having  nothing, 
what  can  I  do  ?  " 

Mabel  was  not  as  much  distressed  as  her  husband, 
except  on  his  account.  Business  had  no  meaning  for 
her.  The  entire  arrangement  by  which  men  bought 
and  sold  and  realized  profits  was  as  great  a  mystery  in 
her  eyes  as  the  sharpest  trick  ever  performed  by  a 
Cazenove. 

"Eat  your  supper,"  she  said  to  him  confidently, 
"  and  look  on  the  bright  side.  It  will  come  out  all 
right,  I'm  sure." 

But  Allan  could  not  muster  an  appetite. 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  for  myself,"  said  he,  "  but  it 
will  be  hard  for  you  and  Cecil,  if  I  have  to  come  down 
and  go  to  work  for  some  one.  Salaries  are  not  high 
these  days.  Probably  we  shall  have  to  break  up  our 
home  and  go  to  some  city  and  board." 

This  was  something  definite  in  the  way  of  unpleasant 
possibilities,  and  it  came  home  to  Mrs.  Fawcett  in  a 
way  she  did  not  like.  It  would  mean  not  only  a  loss 
of  her  pleasant  surroundings,  but  it  would  fall  heavily 
on  Mattie  Stuart,  toward  whom  Mabel  had  assumed 
the  role  of  a  protector.  Anything  was  better  than  to 
send  Mattie  back  to  t'-c  tender  mercies  of  her  hateful 
spouse.  Mabel  racked  her  brains  to  see  whether  she 
could  not  suggest  something. 

"  I  would  use  every  cent  there  is  left  if  it  would  get 
me  out  of  the  scrape,"  she  told  Allan.  "  Frank  has 
enough  money,  and  even  if  you  lost  it,  he  would  never 
know  the  difference." 

He  made  a  gesture  of  intense  disapprobation. 

"  If  I  should  lose  that  money,  Mabel,  and  be  unable 
t»  pay  it,  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do.  ComiaGt 


YOVNG  PAWCETT'S  MABEL.  19* 

suicide,  perhaps.  I  have  never  faced  a  man  that 
I  owed  and  asked  him  to  wait  for  his  money,  and 
I  simply  could  not  do  it.  There  is  no  disgrace  equal 
to  that.  No,  the  sum  I  owe  Frank  must  be  kept 
intact,  at  all  hazards,  even  if  I  go  down  in  the  crash." 

With  a  woman's  argument  she  met  this. 

"  I  should  think,  to  hear  you  talk,  that  you  cared 
more  for  Frank  Selden  than  for  your  own  wife  and 
child  !  He  took  his  risk  when  he  lent  you  the  money, 
and  if  it's  lost  that's  his  affair.  You  say  it  may  save 
you,  and  if  you  don't  take  it,  and  you  lose  everything^ 
I  don't  see  how  you  can  pretend  to  love  us  so  much." 

"  Mabel,  my  dear  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Let  me  try  to 
make  it  plain  to  you.  That  $3poo  that  I  have  of 
Frank's  is  his.  It  is  not  mine.  I  only  have  the  right 
to  use  it.  It  would  be  almost — yes,  quite — as  if  I  stole 
the  amount,  if  I  put  it  where  there  was  a  risk  of  losa^ 
when  my  own  capital  is  used  up.  If  I  must  rob  people 
I  will  take  a  pistol  and  go  out  on  the  highway  where 
there  are  strangers,  instead  of  picking  the  pockets  of 
my  friends." 

She  thought  him  very  foolish  in  his  view  of  the 
matter,  and  for  some  time  she  tried  to  have  him 
see  the  way  it  seemed  to  her. 

"  If  you  lose  this  money — and  you  say  you  don't 
think  you  will  if  you  take  it — they  can't  arrest  you,  can 
they?  But  if  you  go  to  rob  people  in  the  street, 
you  can  be  put  in  jail.  I  should  think  that  was  proof 
enough  of  the  difference." 

Despairing  of  conveying  his  ideas  to  one  who  rea- 
soned  on  such  narrow  premises,  Allan  lost  his  temper, 
for  the  first  time  in  a  year  or  more.  He  said  he  should 
do  what  he  thought  right,  and  that  Mabel  would  have 
to  take  whatever  he  found  himself  able  to  give  hit 


19*  YOVN4  FA  WCETT'S  MAtEL. 

when  this  thing  came  to  a  head.  He  had  done  hi« 
best  to  make  a  fortune,  and  if  he  had  failed,  she  must 
share  his  ill-luck  with  him.  He  was  not  going  to 
become  a  swindler  for  the  sake  of  putting  on  appear- 
ances. And  when  the  only  answer  his  wife  made 
to  this  was  to  cry,  he  got  up  and  went  down  to  the 
office  again,  to  pore  over  the  hateful  figures  that 
annoyed  him,  instead  of  getting  the  sleep  of  which  he 
stood  in  the  greatest  need. 

Mabel  told  Mattie  of  what  had  occurred,  and  that 
lady  agreed  that  it  would  be  very  foolish  for  a  man 
to  sacrifice  the  comfort  of  his  family  merely  to  pay  such 
a  paltry  sum  as  $3,000  to  a  man  who  had  no  more  need 
of  it  than  he  had  of  three  coats  at  once.  Mrs.  Stuart 
had,  however,  a  good  deal  of  the  wisdom  of  the  ser- 
pent, and  she  advised  her  friend  not  to  let  a  quarrel 
grow  out  of  the  difference  of  opinion  between  herself 
and  her  husband.  She  knew  Fawcett  well  enough  to 
understand  that  soft  words  would  go  much  farther  with 
him  than  hard  ones. 

Mabel  profited  by  these  suggestions  so  far  as  to 
receive  Allan  well  when  he  returned,  and  so  impressed 
him  by  her  gentleness  and  sweetness  that  he  resolved 
to  make  every  effort  to  save  her.  In  the  morning  there 
came  another  letter  from  the  great  produce-buying 
house  of  Decker  &  Co.,  urging  him  to  reconsider  his 
declination  of  their  proposal,  and  offering  as  an  induce- 
ment to  allow  him  to  enter  the  firm  with  only  $10,000 
cash,  the  balance  of  the  $25,000  being  taken  in  his 
notes  of  hand.  A  death  in  the  partnership  had 
removed  one  of  their  most  reliable  men,  and  Fawcett 
was  flatteringly  assured  that  he  could  fill  the  place  to 
the  acceptance  of  the  other  members. 

Fawcett  was  in  a  terrible  quandary.     He  could  not 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  HABEL.  193 

sec  any  choice  between  accepting  this  offer  and  of 
winding  up  his  affairs  and  seeking  a  clerkship.  Things 
had  altered  since  he  went  into  business.  It  was 
no  longer  easy  for  a  young  man  with  hardly  a  cent 
of  capital  to  get  a  foothold.  As  near  as  he  could 
reckon  he  was  worth  less  than  a  thousand  dollars  after 
paying  what  he  owed.  Three  weeks  before  he  could 
count  $8,000  easily.  He  wished  he  had  someone 
to  advise  with,  someone  whose  judgment  would  be  un- 
biased and  honest.  While  he  sat  in  his  office,  despair- 
ing of  coming  to  any  correct  decision,  the  door  opened 
and  Mrs.  Stuart  entered. 

She  had  come  down  town  on  an  errand  for  Mabel, 
and  Allan  seized  at  this  very  flimsy  straw  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  his  distress. 

"  You're  not  in  any  hurry,"  he  said,  when  she  had 
done  her  errand,  "  and  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  an- 
other matter." 

Mattie  indicated  her  willingness  to  hear  anything  he 
wished  to  say,  and  took  a  chair  near  him,  looking  quite 
charming  in  her  spring  hat  and  gown ;  a  hat  and  gown 
that  had  been  paid  for,  by  the  way,  out  of  his  purse, 
though  he  did  not  imagine  that  to  be  the  fact.  Faw- 
cett  then  proceeded  to  tell  her  of  his  troubles  and 
of  the  offer  he  had  had  from  Decker,  combined  with 
the  proposal  of  Mr.  Selden  to  advance  him  the  money 
he  needed.  She  heard  him  quietly,  waiting  till  he  had 
finished,  and  then  spoke  her  mind. 

"  You  are  very  honorable,  I  am  sure,"  said  she.  "  I 
am  afraid  there  are  few  men  equally  so.  It  is  an 
expression  often  used  that  a  husband  and  father  owes 
more  to  his  wife  and  children  than  to  any  one  else. 
You  seem  to  have  the  opportunity  to  pay  every  one 
that  you  owe,  and  thus  satisfy  your  conscience,  and  at 
'3 


194  rOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

the  same  time  get  a  foothold  in  a  large  concern  where 
you  are  sure  to  do  well.  There  does  not  seem  to 
be  much  to  hesitate  about." 

He  had  revolved  this  in  his  mind  a  hundred  times, 
but  somehow  it  was  now  made  clearer. 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  he  said  with  brightening 
countenance.  "  And  I  shall  send  immediately  to  Mr. 
Selden,  asking  if  his  offer  still  holds  good." 

Then  they  talked  for  some  minutes  about  Frank, 
whom  Mrs.  Stuart  had  never  seen,  and  she  expressed 
the  opinion  that  a  friend  like  him  was  worth  having. 
There  were  many  rich  young  men  in  the  world,  but 
very  few  indeed  so  generous  and  thoughtful.  She 
developed  a  surprising  interest  in  Mr.  Selden,  asking 
what  he  was  like  in  appearance,  and  a  dozen  other 
questions  that  Allan,  after  the  manner  of  men,  found  it 
difficult  to  answer. 

"  So  he  is  young,  rich  and  good  !  "  she  exclaimed,  at 
last.  "  He  must  be  a  paragon  worth  knowing.  " 

A  sudden  vision  of  a  night  at  Selden's  rooms,  with 
half-intoxicated  men  and  women  about  the  board — with 
one  in  particular  leaning  on  his  own  shoulder  as  the 
feast  progressed — struck  in  upon  Fawcett  and  gave  him 
a  wrench.  Could  he  accept  so  great  a  favor  from 
one  who  had  led  him  into  that  terrible  mistake  ?  If 
Mabel  knew,  it  would  be  all  over  between  them  !  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  money  that  Frank  was  to  lend 
was  really  for  Mabel's  use  and  that  of  her  child.  One 
thing  would  in  a  measure  offset  the  other.  It  would 
not  do  to  be  always  blaming  Frank  for  that  thoughtless 
net.  It  was  long  past  now  and  ought  to  be  buried. 
Why  was  it  always  coming  up,  like  the  ghost  of  a 
Murdered  person,  to  annoy  him  ? 

**  Yes,"  he  said,  "  he  is  rich,  and  he  is  certainly  gen- 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MAMEl.  Iff 

erons.  I  will  write  to  him  at  once.  And  please  My 
nothing  to  my  wife  about  my  speaking  of  this  to  yon. 
She  might  think  I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with 
it." 

Fawcett's  back  was  toward  the  door,  and  the  whole 
of  the  last  three  sentences  were  distinctly  heard  by  a 
young  man  who  had  entered  unceremoniously ;  no  lest 
a  person,  in  fact,  than  Mr.  Frank  Selden  himself. 

"  That's  bad — very  bad,"  he  drawled,  in  a  comical 
way,  while  Allan  sprang  up  and  grasped  his  hand.  "  A 
man  who  has  secrets  from  his  wife  is  going  the  wrong 
way.  But,  I  beg  your  pardon '* 

The  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  Fawcett's  in- 
dicating that  a  lady  was  present. 

"  Mrs.  Stuart,  let  me  present  to  you  my  friend, 
Mr.  Selden." 

Mattie  rose  and  greeted  Mr.  Selden  with  heightened 
color.  The  first  thought  of  that  gentleman  in  relation 
to  her  was  that  she  was  a  very  charming  person. 

u  And  now,"  said  Frank,  keeping  up  the  air  of 
gayety  with  which  he  had  opened  the  conversation, 
"permit  me  to  make  a  most  impolite  inquiry.  I 
overheard  you  say,  as  I  entered  the  office,  that  some 
one  was  '  both  rich  and  generous.'  As  the  individual 
must  be  a  genuine  rara  avis  in  these  days,  I  want  to 
know  if  you  will  furnish  me  with  his  name,  which  I 
promise,  if  you  desire,  to  keep  a  profound  secret." 

Fawcett  looked  at  Mattie  and  Mattie  looked  at  him. 
The  situation  was  so  funny  that  both  broke  into 
laughter. 

*  Do  you  really  desire  to  know  ?  "  asked  Allan.  •  I 
can  show  you  a  portrait  of  the  person  I  was  speaking 
of." 

"Nothing   would    please   me    better/ 


196  YOUNG  FA  WCETT*S  MABEL. 

Frank,  astonished  at  the  merriment  his  question  had 
caused. 

"Very  well,"  said  Fa wcett,  turning  the  face  of  his 
guest  to  a  little  mirror  that  hung  in  a  corner,  "  there 
he  is." 

Selden  looked  at  his  reflection  and  then  turned  to 
the  others. 

"Ah,  but  this  is  a  joke,"  he  said. 

"  No,"  said  Allan  seriously.  "  It  was  of  you  I  was 
speaking.  And  to  explain  further  I  will  say  that  I  was 
telling  Mrs.  Stuart  about  the  offer  Mr.  Decker  made, 
and  which  he  has  repeated  on  yet  more  favorable 
terms  in  this  morning's  mail." 

Mr.  Selden  did  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  of 
Mrs.  Stuart.  He  wondered  why  that  lady  had  been 
the  recipient  of  this  confidence,  especially  after  the  in- 
junction he  had  overheard  that  she  should  not  com- 
municate the  matter  to  Mrs.  Fawcett.  He  looked  at 
Mattie  again  in  a  quick,  searching  way,  that  she  did 
not  fail  to  understand.  She  knew  she  was  placed  in  a 
position  of  suspicion,  and  hastened  to  ask  Mr.  Fawcett 
to  help  her  out  of  it. 

"  I  have  been  advising  him  to  accept  both  your 
offer  and  that  of  Mr.  Decker,"  she  said.  "  I  think  you 
may  understand  my  interest  in  the  case  a  little  better 
when  Mr.  Fawcett  tells  you  that  I  am  own  cousin  to 
his  wife." 

Selden  was  rather  sorry  and  rather  glad  to  hear  this. 
He  had  been  building  up  a  little  romance  around  the 
pair  that  this  avowal  shivered  to  atoms.  It  was  for 
that  he  was  sorry,  as  he  had  a  great  love  for  the  roman- 
tic, and  he  had  long  considered  Allan  an  altogether 
too  slow  old  poke.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the 
statement  of  Mrs.  Stuart  gave  the  impression  that  she 


YOUNG  FAWCETrS  MABEL.  197 

and  Fawcett  were  on  no  particularly  close  terms,  that 
left  the  gate  open  for  the  exercise  of  his  own  fas- 
cinations. 

"Why,  you  are  almost  cousins,  yourselves,"  said 
Fawcett,  pausing  to  consider.  "  You  are  cousin  to 
Mabel,  Frank,  and  so  is  she.  You  must  have  heard 
Mrs.  Morey  speak  of  the  Burbanks,"  he  added,  to  Mr. 
Selden. 

Oh,  yes,  Frank  had  heard  of  the  Burbanks.  They 
lived  at  Cleveland,  he  believed. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Stuart,  before  her  marriage,  was  Miss 
Burbank.  Now  you  know  all  about  it." 

Mrs.  Stuart  said  she  ought  to  return  to  the  house, 
but  she  added  that  she  would  like  to  know,  before  she 
left  the  office,  that  the  matter  of  Decker  &  Co.  was 
settled.  Selden  was  pleased  with  her  business-like 
manner,  and  promptly  said  that,  as  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, there  was  nothing  in  the  way.  Allan  explained 
to  him  in  a  word  the  new  proposition  of  Mr.  Decker. 

"  I  am  only  sorry  you  are  not  to  want  the  whole 
$25,000,"  smiled  Frank.  "  I  had  rather  lend  it  to  you 
than  any  one  else  I  know." 

"  Then  you  will  settle  up  here  and  go  into  the  New 
York  firm  ? "  asked  Mattie,  pausing  with  her  hand  on 
the  door-knob. 

Fawcett  bowed  deliberatingly.  It  seemed  the  best 
thing,  and  yet  he  dreaded  so  great  a  change. 

"And  I  shall  not  tell  Mabel?" 

"  No,  I  will  tell  her  myself.  She  will  have  to  leave 
Norwood,  you  see,  and  I  want  to  present  it  to  her  in 
the  best  light." 

Mrs.  Stuart  went  her  way  and  the  two  men  sat  down 
to  talk  matters  over.  It  did  not  require  long  to  come 
to  a  complete  understanding.  Fawcett  was  to  pay  the 


198  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL, 

$3,000  he  owed,  with  the  interest,  and  take  a  check  for 
$10,000,  for  which  he  was  to  give  security  on  his  new 
stock.  Mr.  Decker  need  not  learn  that  this  money  was 
borrowed— of  course  it  was  no  business  of  his  where  it 
came  from.  Fawcett  did  not  care  to  have  his  future 
partner  know  of  his  recent  losses  and  how  badly  they 
had  crippled  him.  It  might  not  give  Mr.  Decker  an 
exalted  idea  of  his  capacity,  and  yet  there  was  nothing 
but  bad  luck  in  it.  A  large  house  could  stand  such 
losses,  while  a  small  one  could  not.  It  was  a  good 
thing  that  he  was  going  out  of  business  alone.  Com- 
bination and  trusts  were  the  order  of  the  day,  and  no 
one  could  stand  against  them. 

The  letter  accepting  the  proposition  of  the  New  York 
house  was  sent  forthwith,  as  Selden  urged  that  delays 
in  such  cases  might  prove  dangerous.  As  long  as  the 
thing  was  decided  on,  the  sooner  it  was  arranged  the 
better.  Then  the  two  friends  went  up  to  Mr.  Fawcett's 
to  dinner,  where  Mabel,  having  been  apprised  by 
Mattie  that  her  cousin  was  in  town  received  him  pleas- 
antly. Frank  was  in  the  best  of  spirits,  determined  to 
make  an  impression  upon  Mrs.  Stuart.  The  baby  was 
brought  forth  in  the  arms  of  that  lady,  which  gave  him 
an  opportunity  to  say  a  great  many  complimentary 
things  to  both  of  them. 

After  dinner  Allan  got  his  wife  alone  upstairs  and 
explained  the  full  meaning  of  the  course  he  had  taken. 
To  his  joy  she  expressed  her  entire  satisfaction,  and 
said  she  would  be  glad  to  move  away  from  Norwood, 
so  long  as  it  was  to  a  place  in  or  near  the  metropolis. 

"  You  will  be  prosperous  and  happy,  and  Cecil  and  I 
will  get  along  nicely,"  she  added.  "  I  am  glad  you 
have  got  over  your  prejudice  against  letting  Frank  help 
you.  How  soon  do  you  suppose  we  shall  move  ? " 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  199 

He  told  her  that  he  was  going  the  very  next  day  to 
to  see  Mr.  Decker,  and  that  he  would  be  able  to  answer 
all  such  questions  when  he  returned.  He  communi- 
cated the  successful  result  of  this  interview  to  Mr. 
Selden,  as  he  talked  with  that  gentleman  at  the  gate, 
before  leaving  for  the  office.  Frank  was  going  to  stay 
a  little  longer  at  the  house,  as  he  intended  to  leave 
town  that  afternoon,  but  before  they  parted  it  was 
agreed  that  a  certified  check  for  $10,000  should  be  sent 
to  Mr.  Fawcett's  address  at  New  York  that  evening. 

It  was  for  the  purpose  of  saying  a  little  more  to  the 
fair  Mattie  Stuart  that  Mr.  Selden  lingered  on  the 
piazza  of  the  Fawcett  cottage.  They  had  become  good 
friends  in  a  surprisingly  short  space  of  time. 

"  Shall  you  go  to  New  York  with  your  cousins  ? "  he 
asked.  "  You  ought  not  to  desert  them  at  such  a  time, 
for  they  will  have  absolutely  no  acquaintances  there  at 
first." 

Mattie  answered  that  she  presumed  she  should  go. 
Her  husband,  she  said,  was  not  likely  to  return  for 
some  time,  and  Mabel  seemed  to  hate  to  part  with 
her. 

"  How  long  since  you  saw  Mr.  Stuart  ? "  asked  Sel- 
den, bending  his  bold  eyes  upon  his  companion. 

"  Four  or  five  months." 

"  And  you  do  not  expect  him  at  present  ?  " 

"  No.     It  may  be  a  year  or  two." 

Mr.  Selden  took  out  a  silk  handkerchief  and  flipped 
the  dust  from  his  boots. 

"  If  /had  a  wife,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  she  would 
go  where  I  went." 

"Ah,"  said  Mattie,  "but  those  South  American 
countries  are  so  unhealthy  ! " 

"  If  she  could  not  go,  /  would  not,"  he  answered. 


»»«  YOUNG  FAWCETTS  MABEL. 

"But  what  am  I  talking  about?  I  am  a  hopeless 
bachelor.  How  can  I  tell  what  I  should  do  if  I  were 
married  ? " 

She  saw  that  he  was  affected  by  her  charms  and  she 
liked  the  sensation.  It  had  been  dull  enough  at  Nor* 
wood,  the  Lord  knew ! 

"Why  have  you  never  married?"  she  inquired. 
"  You  must  have  been  in  love." 

He  looked  her  straight  in  the  eyes  and  told  the  lie 
with  beautiful  earnestness. 

"  Never." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  came  to  join  them,  and  the  conversation 
took  on  a  different  turn.  He  promised  to  come  to 
New  York  and  see  them  when  they  got  settled.  An 
hour  later  he  gave  a  kiss  to  the  baby,  tossed  a  com- 
pliment or  two  to  Mabel,  and  lifted  his  hat  courteously 
to  Mrs.  Stuart  at  the  gate. 

"  Will  I  visit  them  at  New  York  ? "  he  muttered,  to 
himself.  "Will  I  visit  them!  Well,  I  should  rathe* 
think  I 


CHAPTER  XIX 

COMING   HOME   UNEXPECTEDLY. 

BEFORE  the  summer  was  far  advanced  the  Fawcetts 
had  removed  to  New  York  and  were  settled  in  a  house 
in  Brooklyn.  It  was  easier  to  get  a  habitation  on  that 
side  of  the  river,  at  a  reasonable  price,  than  on  the 
other,  and  it  was  not  more  than  forty  minutes'  ride  from 
the  office  of  Decker  &  Co.,  using  the  bridge,  and  pro- 
Tided  that  nothing  in  the  car  system  was  out  of  order. 
Mn.  Stuart  stayed  with  them  and  there  was  no  change 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL,  aoi 

in  their  household,  except  that  an  ordinary  servant  took 
the  place  of  Mrs.  Angus,  who  could  on  no  account  be 
persuaded  to  make  the  journey.  The  difference  in  the 
table  was  at  once  perceptible  to  Fawcett,  but  he  did 
not  say  much  about  it.  He  did  not  see  how  it  could 
be  helped,  and,  in  fact,  he  now  had  things  of  much 
more  importance  to  occupy  his  mind. 

The  business  of  Decker  &  Co.  was  so  different  from 
that  to  which  he  was  accustomed  that  all  of  his  energies 
were  bent  on  attending  to  their  affairs.  He  left  home 
early  in  the  morning,  and  did  not  return  before  seven 
at  night,  and  sometimes  much  later.  For  a  while  Mabel, 
who  did  not  like  the  long  day  without  him,  came  over 
to  the  city  to  lunch  with  her  husband  ;  but  he  was  in 
such  haste  and  the  restaurants  where  he  liked  to  take 
her  were  so  far  from  his  office  that  he  advised  her  to 
give  this  up.  This  left  her  with  only  the  baby  and  Mrs. 
Stuart  to  amuse  her,  and  in  a  short  time  she  got  into 
the  habit  of  going  out  with  Mattie  to  spend  the  after- 
noons sight-seeing,  sometimes  even  attending  matine*es 
at  the  theatres. 

Mabel  did  not  intend  to  neglect  Cecil,  but  the  boy 
seemed  quite  well  and  could  enjoy  himself  playing  with 
his  blocks  or  tin  horses  on  the  dining-room  floor,  with 
Mollie  close  by.  The  expense  of  a  nurse-girl  was  not 
one  that  Allan  would  be  likely  to  favor.  He  would 
have  asked  what  the  child  needed  more  than  his  mother 
and  Mattie,  and  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  answer 
the  question.  Mrs.  Fawcett  knew  that  her  husband 
was  morally  certain  never  to  be  in  the  house  before 
half-past  six  at  the  earliest,  and  she  was  careful  not  to 
stay  out  beyond  that  hour.  So  it  went  on  for  weeks, 
she  and  Mattie  going  out  nearly  every  day  for  some 
hours,  and  Allan  none  the  wiser.  He  would  have  Jud 


*•*  YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL, 

a  fit  had  he  suspected  that  his  idolized  boy  was  left  so 
much  in  the  sole  charge  of  a  not  over-intelligent  servant, 
who  had,  beside,  other  matters  to  attend  to. 

There  were  other  things  that  followed,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  It  was  necessary  for  Mabel  to  caution 
Mollie  not  to  mention  the  fact  of  her  absences  before 
Mr.  Fawcett,  and  the  partnership  in  deceit  thus  estab- 
lished gave  the  girl  an  advantage  that  she  was  not 
slow  to  perceive.  She  slighted  her  work  in  a  way  that 
she  would  not  have  dared  do  otherwise.  She  got 
more  evenings  out  than  had  ever  fallen  to  her  share,  and 
if  her  temper  happened  to  get  aroused  she  made  speeches 
to  her  mistress  such  as  no  servant  is  usually  permitted 
to  make  and  retain  her  position. 

Fawcett  was  oblivious  to  all  these  things,  as  his  only 
business  in  the  house  was  to  eat  and  sleep  and  spend 
an  hour  playing  with  the  baby.  If  his  breakfast  was 
on  the  table  at  the  right  time  he  did  not  mind  because 
it  was  a  very  light  one,  for  he  was  anxious  to  get 
across  the  East  River.  If  his  dinner  was  not  what  it 
should  be,  he  recollected  that  he  came  at  uncertain 
hours.  He  made  it  up  by  a  substantial  lunch  at  noon, 
taken  with  other  members  of  the  firm,  at  which  the 
condition  of  the  market  was  the  staple  topic  of  conver- 
sation. 

Whenever  Mabel  asked  him  to  take  her  to  [a  place 
of  amusement  he  pleaded  weariness,  and  on  the  few 
occasions  when  he  yielded  to  her  entreaties  he  fell 
asleep  in  his  place,  and  only  got  fairly  awake  when  he 
was  roused  by  the  outgoing  crowd.  He  seemed  to  care 
nothing  now  for  pleasure,  except  that  of  increasing  the 
sales  of  his  firm.  If  he  sat  down  after  dinner  to  talk 
for  an  hour,  when  the  child  had  been  put  to  sleep,  his 
recitals  always  drifted  to  the  volume  of  trade  or  the 


V9VWG  FAWCETT* S  MABEL.  293 

prtee  of  eats  or  cheese.  As  his  wife  took  not  the  re- 
motest interest  in  those  things,  it  was  very  dull  for 
both,  and  nobody  objected  when  he  yawned  and  said 
he  guessed  bed  was  the  place  for  him. 

At  the  end  of  three  months,  passed  in  this  way, 
Fawcett  came  home  one  evening  with  a  dark  frown  on 
his  face.  A  large  failure  had  just  been  announced 
that  would  cause  a  heavy  loss  to  the  Deckers — so  large 
in  fact  as  to  make  it  doubtful  whether  the  new  partner 
had  cleared  a  single  dollar  in  the  time  he  had  been 
connected  with  them.  Owing  such  a  large  sum  as  he 
did,  this  occurrence  was  one  calculated  to  worry 
Fawcett  exceedingly.  Hardly  swallowing  a  mouthful 
of  dinner  he  got  Mabel  into  a  private  room  and  un- 
bosomed to  her  his  troubles. 

Now,  if  Mrs.  Fawcett  had  been  the  kind  of  wife 
a  novelist  would  like  to  depict,  she  would,  of  course, 
have  assured  her  husband  that  her  fullest  sympathy 
and  love  were  his  in  this  emergency.  She  would  have 
told  him  that  there  were  small  economies  in  the  do- 
mestic arrangements  of  his  house  that  she  could  make. 
She  would  have  led  him  into  optimistic  views  of  the 
future,  by  reminding  him  that  such  a  failure  was  of  very 
unusual  occurrence,  and  that  the  profits  of  the  next 
quarter  would  probably  far  more  than  counterbalance 
the  loss  of  this  one.  In  short,  although  he  might  have 
argued  to  show  that  she  was  wrong,  and  have  shaken 
his  head  dolefully  at  her  predictions,  he  would  have 
ended  by  deciding  that  a  true  wife  was  the  best  gift  of 
Heaven  to  man,  and  have  gained  courage  from  the 
knowledge  that  whatever  else  was  lost  this  fair  creature 
would  press  her  lips  to  his  with  equal  joy  whether  ht 
were  prince  or  pauper. 

Bat  Mrs.  Fawcett  was  not  that  kind  of  a  wife 


,«4  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

to  put  my  private  opinion  on  record,  I  might  add  that 
she  is  not  alone  among  wives  in  this  particular. 

"  We  must  economize  in  every  possible  way,"  he  said, 
to  her  in  closing.  "  A  few  blows  like  this  and  I  should 
be  not  only  penniless  but  saddled  with  the  heavy  debt 
I  assumed  on  going  into  the  firm." 

Mabel's  pretty  mouth  was  drawn  down  unpleasantly. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  can  spend  any  less  than  we 
do,"  she  replied,  peevishly.  "  I  have  nothing  at  all 
now.  We  never  go  anywhere  to  spend  a  dollar.  It  is 
necessary  to  eat,  and  to  have  clothes  that  will  cover  us, 
and  that  is  all  we  have  had." 

In  his  distress  Fawcett  did  not  choose  his  words. 

"  If  you  don't  have  it  to  spend  you  won't  spend  it ! " 
he  replied,  with  a  snap.  "I've  not  got  it,  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  say!  I've  been  giving  you  $150  a 
month  and  all  you'll  get  after  this  is  $100.  While  I'm 
$25,000  in  debt  and  paying  a  heavy  interest,  and  the 
concern  not  making  a  cent,  I  can't  do  any  better." 

The  young  wife  began  to  cry.  It  was  getting  to  be  a 
great  habit  of  hers  to  weep  whenever  anything  went 
wrong. 

"  I  simply  can't  supply  the  table  and  clothe  Cecil  on 
$100  a  month,  after  the  rent  is  paid,"  she  sobbed.  "If 
you  were  not  the  most  cruel  man  in  the  world  you 
would  not  think  of  asking  your  family  to  live  like 
pigs." 

She  had  put  him  so  thoroughly  out  of  temper  that 
he  ransacked  his  brain  to  think  of  things  that  would 
be  disagreeable  to  her. 

"  It  would  cost  less  to  supply  your  table,"  he  said, 
*4  if  there  were  fewer  people  to  eat  here.  I  think  your 
cousin,  Mrs.  Stuart,  might  cut  her  visit  a  little  short, 
unless  she  chooses  to  pay  her  board.  And  I  have 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  aoj 

heard  of  people  as  poor  as  we  where  the  woman  did 
her  own  work." 

The  idea  of  parting  with  Mattie  oppressed  Mabel 
worse  even  than  that  of  discharging  the  cook. 

"Why,  Allan  Fawcettl"  she  exclaimed,  in  great  in- 
dignation. "  What  do  you  suppose  I  should  do  here  all 
day  long  without  a  soul  to  speak  to,  and  you  over  in 
that  New  York  office  from  sunrise  to  sunset  ?  If  it  had 
not  been  for  Mattie  I  should  have  died  of  loneliness  in 
this  place  where  there  is  no  one  I  ever  saw  before.  She 
is  as  good  as  she  can  be  to  stay  with  me,  and  I  will  never 
tell  her  to  leave.  As  for  Mollie,  do  you  think  the  $4  a 
week  that  we  pay  her  is  going  to  ruin  you  ?  I  never 
heard  you  talk  like  this  even  in  the  first  weeks  of  our 
marriage,  when  you  were  running  a  little  bit  of  a  store 
in  a  country  town ! " 

The  more  they  discussed  the  subject  the  farther  they 
got  from  an  agreement.  Cross  words  were  exchanged 
freely,  and  Fawcett's  nervous  disposition  came  out  of 
the  ordeal  a  thousand  times  worse  than  it  went  in.  He 
ended  by  repeating  that  he  should  give  her  just  a  hun- 
dred dollars  a  month  and  no  more  until  he  could  see 
what  the  next  quarter  brought  forth. 

"  And  how  about  my  sealskin  sacque  ? "  she  sobbed. 
"  You  promised  me  one  this  winter,  as  faithfully  as  you 
could  promise  anything." 

"  You  get  one,  if  you  can !  "  he  retorted,  savagely. 
"You  won't  get  it  from  me,  I'll  tell  you  that!  A 
woman  who  has  no  more  sense  than  you  ought  to  wear 
common  clothes  a  little  longer.  An  ordinary  sacque 
will  look  well  enough  when  you  come  to  look  at  me 
through  the  bars  of  a  debtor's  prison ! " 

Now,  out  of  this  grew  a  good  many  things,  none  of 
them  conducive  to  the  best  interests  of  the  wedded 


ao6  Yetrjre  FA  WCETTS  MABEL. 

couple  whose  life  I  am  attempting  to  describe. 
cett  had  become  so  thoroughly  angry  at  his  wife,  on 
account  of  what  he  considered  her  unreasonable  atti- 
tude, that  Mrs.  Stuart  could  not  help  noticing  his  al- 
tered demeanor.  His  good-mornings,  when  he  entered 
the  breakfast  room,  were  curt  enough,  and  at  night  even 
his  romp  with  Cecil  had  grown  subdued,  while  he 
hardly  spoke  to  Mabel  at  all.  There  came  a  crash  one 
day  when  he  returned  unexpectedly  in  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon  to  change  his  clothes  for  a  trip  he  was 
obliged  to  take,  and  found  no  one  in  but  Mollie  and 
the  baby. 

"Where's  Mrs.  Fawcett?"  he  demanded  roughly,  as 
he  entered  the  kitchen. 

"Gone  out,  sor." 

"  And  Mrs.  Stuart  ?  " 

"  Gone  out  with  her." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  they 
have  left  Cecil  alone  vi'iihyou/" 

There  was  an  innuendo  in  this  expression  that  might 
have  awakened  a  less  irascible  woman  than  Miss  Mollie 
O'Donaghue. 

"What  harrum  do  ye  think  is  going  to  happen  to 
him?"  she  retorted.  "It's  not  the  furst  time  he's 
bin  left  with  me,  an'  he's  niver  got  hurted  yit ! " 

Fawcett  did  not  mean  to  get  into  a  debate  with  this 
woman,  and  he  contented  himself  with  inquiring  when 
his  wife  would  return. 

"  Faith,  it's  not  mesilf  can  answer  that !  "  said  Mollie, 
•with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  I  suppose  she  comes  in 
whin  she  likes,  the  same  as  other  folks." 

Fawcett  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  half-past  two. 
He  could  take  a  later  train  than  he  intended,  as  he  did 
not  tike  to  leav  i  his  boy  in  charge  of  this  ignorant 


YGUNG  FA  WCRTT'S  MABEL.  t+f 

ant.  Taking  Cecil  with  him  into  the  parlor,  he  got 
down  on  the  floor  with  him  and  attempted  to  amuse 
Jie  child,  thinking  Mabel  must  return  very  soon.  He 
had  no  idea  she  had  gone  a»y  farther  than  to  one  of 
the  stores  in  the  vicinity,  and  his  only  criticism  was 
that  she  ought  to  have  taken  Cecil  with  her,  or  asked 
Mattie  to  remain  in  the  house  during  her  absence.  But 
hours  passed  by  and  the  clock  struck  six  before  either 
of  them  came.  By  that  time  he  was  in  a  state  border- 
ing on  frenzy. 

"  Well,  you  are  home  early  I  "  exclaimed  Mabel,  as 
she  saw  her  husband. 

"  Yes,  I  am ! "  he  replied,  between  his  shut  teeth. 
'•  And  it's  very  lucky  I  came,  for  otherwise  I  should 
never  have  known  the  way  you  neglect  your  poor  child." 

Mabel  gave  him  an  imploring  glance,  indicating  that 
she  wished  he  would  say  no  more  while  Mrs.  Stuart 
was  present,  but  he  had  been  piling  up  his  feeling  too 
long  to  stop  now. 

"  A  nice  mother  you  are  ! "  he  continued.  "  Leaving 
this  little  fellow  to  a  kitchen-girl  while  you  gad  the 
streets  from  noon  till  night !  Oh,  I  don't  care  who 
hears  me.  Any  one  who  doesn't  like  what  I  say  needn't 
stay  where  I  am.  Not  the  first  time  it  has  happened, 
either,  Mollie  informs  me  !  If  it  occurs  again  I'll  find 
a  remedy,  just  remember  that !  " 

Her  never-failing  resource  came  to  Mabel,  and  she 
began  to  cry.  Mrs.  Stuart  wisely  went  out  of  the  room, 
though  she  resented  inwardly  the  attack  that  had  been 
made  on  her  presence.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone  Faw- 
cett  grasped  his  wife  roughly  by  the  arm  and  asked  her 
what  she  meant  by  her  conduct. 

"  Allan,"  said  Mabel,  with  distorted  features,  "  you 
are  hurting  me  1 " 


toS  YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL. 

*  Hurting  yon  J    I  ought  to  hurt  you ! "  he  exclaimed, 
When  I  am  worried  to  death  over  my  business,  when 

you  should  be  doing  everything  you  can  to  make  things 
easier  for  me,  you  leave  your  child  to  a  servant-girl  and 
stroll  through  the  streets  for  hours  at  a  time.  Is  it  not 
enough  to  drive  a  man  wild  ?  You  know  the  only  thing 
I  care  for  in  this  world  is  that  boy,  and  you  treat  him 
as  if  he  were  some  stranger's  child  in  whom  you  had  not 
the  least  interest  I" 

Mabel  shivered  as  though  it  were  midwinter  instead 
of  October. 

**  Be  careful  what  you  say,"  she  answered,  with  chat- 
tering lips.  "  If  Cecil  is  the  only  thing  you  care  for,  you 
cannot  want  any  more  of  me  I " 

When  a  quarrel  has  begun  between  married  people 
there  is  no  telling  where  it  will  end.  Each  of  them 
thinks  it  necessary  to  go  on  saying  the  most  dreadful 
things,  until  one  so  far  exceeds  reasonable  limits  that 
the  other  is  outraged  beyond  repair. 

*  You  are  quite  welcome  to  go  any  time  you  see  fit." 
said  Allan  frigidly.     "  But  while  you  do  remain,  you 
will  attend  to  some  of  your  duties.     You  have  your 
housework  done  for  you,  and  you  shall  not  neglect  my 
child." 

Mrs  Fawcett  heard  him  with  a  rebellious  heart 

44  Take  care  1 "  she  answered,  the  tears  still  falling. 
*  You  say  I  may  go  at  any  time.  Look  out  I  don't 
take  you  at  your  word  !  And  if  I  do  go,  I  shall  take 
Cecil  with  me.  A  man  so  cruel  as  you  are  to  his  wife 
b  not  to  be  trusted  with  his  child." 

Fawcett*s  lips  curled  in  a  pronounced  sneer. 

"Go?"  he  repeated.  "You?  Where  would  you 
go  ?  Why,  you  couldn't  earn  a  shilling  a  week  \  Don't 
be  an  idiot  1" 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  tof 

Stung  by  these  words  Mabel  could  not  help  firing 
back  her  shot  also. 

44  There  are  people  who  have  a  better  opinion  of  me 
than  you,"  she  said  scarcastically.  "  If  I  wanted  to 
leave  you  to-morrow  I  can  get  more  than  you  have 
ever  given  me,  and  not  have  to  listen  to  such  language 
as  you  use,  either." 

It  was  absolutely  horrifying  to  him  to  hear  the  cold- 
blooded way  in  which  she  made  this  statement  Some 
one  had  offered  to  support  her — his  Mabel — his  wife  I 
And  she  repeated  the  offer  to  him  as  if  It  was  one  that 
might  be  accepted  1 

44  There  is  only  one  way  in  which  you  could  secure 
such  a  very  honorable  position  as  the  one  you  mention  J w 
he  replied,  bitterly.  "  Am  I  to  understand  that  you 
have  seriously  considered  such  an  offer  ? " 

In  spite  of  all  she  could  do  Mabel  could  not  keep 
back  the  flood  that  ran  down  her  face. 

44 1  don't  know  what  I  shall  do ! "  she  said.  "  You 
may  drive  me  to  anything.  If  business  goes  a  little 
wrong  at  the  office  you  come  home  as  cross  as  a  wild- 
cat and  act  as  if  I  was  the  one  to  blame.  We  had  not 
been  married  a  week  before  you  began  to  show  your 
terrible  temper,  and  every  little  while  it  breaks  out 
again.  To-day  you  have  gone  further  than  ever.  My 
arm  is  black  and  blue  where  you  pinched  it.  Now  I 
will  tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  I  will  not  live  with  a  man 
who  is  going  to  vent  all  his  spite  on  me,  and  insult  me, 
besides,  in  the  presence  of  my  friends  !  No,  I  won't  1 
I'll  go  out  in  the  street  and  beg  first !  And  if  I  can't 
get  my  bread  that  way  I  will  try  another.  And  if  I  go 
to  the  bad  it  will  be  your  fault  /" 

All  this  was  said  between  outbursts  of  sobbing  that 
shook  the  slight  young  frame.  Fawcett  was  greatly 


9 10  YOUNG  FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

affected  by  the  exhibition.  He  pocketed  his  pride 
enough  to  put  his  arms  around  his  wife,  though  for  a 
long  time  she  repulsed  him,  and  to  say  that  he  had  no 
intention  of  driving  her  away,  and  that  he  did  not  mean 
it  when  he  said  Cecil  was  the  only  thing  he  loved. 
All  he  wanted  was  to  feel  that  she  did  not  neglect  the 
child.  Perhaps  he  had  been  unreasonable.  It  was 
true  that  business  made  him  very  nervous  and  irritable. 
If  Mabel  would  only  say  that  she  would  not  leave  Cecil 
without  a  more  intelligent  attendant  he  would  be  satis- 
fied. 

An  hour  later  when  they  had  made  up,  Allan  asked 
Mabel  to  tell  him  who  had  dared  insult  her  with  such  a 
proposition  as  the  one  she  had  quoted,  and  when  she 
begged  him  not  to  say  any  more  about  it  he  added  that 
it  was  better,  on  the  whole,  he  did  not  know,  for  he 
would  certainly  kill  the  man  if  he  ever  met  him.  They 
went  out  to  dinner  together,  where  they  found  that  Mrs. 
Stuart  had  eaten  with  Cecil  and  had  gone  to  put  him 
to  bed. 

As  the  air  of  summer  is  sweeter  after  a  thunder- 
storm, so  the  atmosphere  of  the  Fawcett  residence 
seemed  clearer  when  Allan,  with  another  kiss  for  good- 
bye, sallied  off  to  get  his  train. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  WILL   IT   BE   BEST  ?  " 

IT  was  true  that  some  one  had  made  the  offer  to 
Mrs.  Fawcett  that  she  quoted  to  her  husband  on  the 
occasion  referred  to  in  the  preceding  chapter.  And  it 
will  not  take  the  reader  long  to  guess  that  the  man 
was  Mr.  Frank  Selden. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.       2 1 1 

Selden  could  say  things  that  would  have  been  offensive 
in  the  mouth  of  almost  any  other  person  in  such  a  way 
as  to  disarm  resentment,  or  at  least  greatly  mollify  it. 
On  one  of  the  visits  which  he  made  to  Norwood, 
Mabel  expressed  apprehension  as  to  her  husband's 
success  in  business. 

"  Oh,  well,  Cousin  Mabel,"  he  replied,  "  if  Allan  ever 
has  to  put  you  on  short  allowance,  you  know  where  to 
come.  I  have  more  money  than  I've  any  use  for,  and 
you  shall  take  a  dip  into  it  whenever  you  say  the 
word." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Selden  was  by  no  means  the 
extremely  generous  person  that  this  speech  might 
make  him  appear.  He  had  a  pronounced  business 
instinct  which  made  him  get  a  quid  pro  quo  for  every 
dollar  invested,  either  in  direct  cash  or  in  some  other 
commodity  equally  valuable  in  his  eyes.  He  spent 
considerable  money  in  dissipation,  and  would  stop  at 
nothing  to  attain  that  on  which  he  once  set  his  mind. 
Mabel  might  have  known,  had  she  understood  his 
character  better,  that  he  would  demand  a  heavy 
interest  on  any  sum  he  ever  lent  her,  but  she  chose  to 
take  the  best  view  of  his  offer.  Though  her  cheek 
reddened  a  little  at  the  time,  she  thanked  him,  saying 
he  was  very  thoughtful,  and  that  if  she  ever  got  into  a 
tight  place  she  would  let  him  know. 

At  the  present  moment,  however,  it  is  doubtful  if 
she  could  have  drawn  very  much  on  her  cousin's  good 
nature,  unless  it  had  been  in  behalf  of  a  third  party. 
Selden  had  not  been  all  of  this  time  without  seeing 
Mrs.  Stuart,  for  whom  he  had  conceived  a  violent 
affection.  Not  being  willing  to  trust  Mrs.  Fawcett 
with  his  secret,  he  had  contrived  a  clandestine  corre- 
spondence with  the  object  of  his  hopes,  and  Mattie  had 


212  YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

already  met  him  several  times  in  out-of-the-way  places 
where  she  could  listen  to  his  delightful  conversation, 
without  compromising  her  reputation  too  deeply. 
With  the  skill  of  a  veteran  fisherman,  he  had  allowed 
her  plenty  of  line,  and  had  won  a  high  place  in  her 
regard  by  the  politeness  of  his  deportment. 

The  evening  of  the  quarrel  between  Fawcett  and  his 
wife  found  Mrs.  Stuart  much  alarmed  for  her  future. 
She  had  received  an  intimation  that  her  presence 
in  the  house  was  not  agreeable  to  the  proprietor. 
Although  Mabel  assured  her  that  she  and  Allan  had 
parted  the  best  of  friends,  and  that  he  had  disclaimed 
all  of  the  hateful  things  he  had  said  in  his  anger, 
Mattie  began  to  wish  that  she  had  another  string  to  her 
bow  in  case  the  solitary  one  broke.  The  next  time 
she  met  Selden  she  confided  to  him  a  part  of  the  truth 
concerning  her  married  relations.  She  admitted 
having  deceived  him  in  saying  that  her  husband  was 
in  South  America,  and  completely  won  his  sympathy 
by  the  slight  glimpse  she  allowed  him  of  her  unhappy 
connection  with  the  house  of  Stuart. 

"  You  ought  to  get  a  divorce  from  such  a  man  as 
that,"  said  Frank,  sympathetically. 

"No,"  she  said,  "there  is  no  way,  And  if 
there  were,  I  should  dread  the  disgrace  above  all 
things." 

They  were  sitting  at  a  table  in  a  restaurant  private 
room,  and  the  meal  had  just  been  disposed  of.  Selden 
looked  searchingly  at  the  neglected  wife,  wondering 
how  far  he  dare  go  at  present.  Although  she  had 
given  him  these  stolen  interviews,  there  had  been 
nothing  otherwise  unladylike  in  her  conduct,  and  he 
knew  that  a  false  step  too  soon  might  lose  him  every- 
thing. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL,  aij 

"You  have  no  suspicion,"  he  said,  slowly,  "that  he 
IB  untrue  to  you  ?  " 

She  answered  with  an  impatient  shake  of  her  head. 

"  On  the  contrary — "  she  began,  and  then  stopped 
short.  A  deep  blush  suffused  her  features.  She  tried 
to  go  on  with  what  she  had  begun  to  say,  but  could 
not  find  suitable  words. 

*'  Do  you  mean,"  said  Frank,  "  that  you  would  not 
care  much  if  he  were  ?  You  cannot  have  a  great  deal 
of  love  left  for  him." 

She  indicated  by  a  motion  that  he  was  right,  and 
then  a  shiver  passed  over  her  frame.  She  did  not  like 
to  think  of  Algy  Stuart,  nor  to  speak  of  him.  He  was 
the  most  disagreeable  thing  in  her  recollection.  With 
her  eyes  on  the  carpet,  she  beat  a  faint  tattoo  with  her 
foot,  and  Selden  leaned  lovingly  toward  her. 

"  Mattie,"  he  whispered,  "  forgive  me  for  arousing 
such  unpleasant  thoughts.  But  I  like  you  so  well 
that  everything  about  you  interests  me.  I  want  to 
know  the  whole  of  the  story  you  have  been  so  kind  as 
to  tell  me  in  part.  You  know  I  am  your  friend — that  I 
would  not  willingly  say  or  do  anything  to  wound  you. " 

He  had  taken  her  hand  in  his,  and  the  pressure  was 
very  agreeable  to  her  in  her  loneliness.  She  was 
violating  the  opinions  of  society  in  coming  to  dine 
with  him  in  this  secret  way,  and  it  was  only  a  little 
more  for  her  to  permit  him  to  touch  her  palm.  Friends 
were  not  plenty  enough  to  justify  her  in  offending  the 
few  she  had.  "I  was  afraid,'  she  murmured  pres- 
ently, "  that  you  wou  d  like  me  less  when  you  under- 
stood the  truth — when  you  knew  that  I  had  been 
deceiving  you." 

"  No,"  he  answered  quickly.  "  You  had  a  right  t« 
your  secret  A  Frenchman  oace  said  that  language 


ft 4  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

was  given  us  so  that  we  might  the  better  conceal  oul 
thoughts,  and  he  was  quite  correct." 

She  raised  her  eyes  timidly  to  his. 

•»  And  is  that  what  you  do  with  your  language  ?  * 
she  asked,  searchingly. 

a  Sometimes,"  he  admitted,  gravely.  "  Certainly  I 
have  done  so  when  talking  with  people  who  do  not 
interest  me,  about  things  which  are  not  their  business. 
It  is  very  different,  however,  with  those  for  whom  I 
have  an  affection.  In  that  case  the  full  truth  is  the 
right  thing.  Don't  you  think  so,  Mattie  ? " 

She  acquiesced,  dropping  her  glance  again ;  and  for 
•  minute  there  was  no  sound  in  the  room  but  the  tick- 
ing of  the  clock  on  the  mantel. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  suddenly,  tightening  the  clasp 
he  had  kept  on  her  hand,  "how  much  do  you  care 
about  me  ?  " 

Her  head  sank  until  her  chin  rested  on  the  bosom 
of  her  dress. 

"  No, "  he  continued,  fearing  to  let  her  speak  just 
yet,  "  you  need  not  tell  me.  It  is  hardly  fair,  con- 
sidering that  you  are  in  name  at  least  the  wife  of  an- 
other  man.  I  have  been  hoping  that  you  would  learn  to 
like  me  as  well  as  if  you  had  no  tie  of  that  kind.  I 
led  a  lonely  life  until  I  met  you.  It  is  you  and  you 
alone  who  brought  me  to  New  York — who  keeps  me 
here.  That  is  no  secret  to  you.  This  has  gone  on  for 
months.  We  have  met  often  ;  and  yet  this  is  the  first 
day  I  have  dared  even  to  take  your  hand  in  mine.  You 
know  how  dearly  I  have  desired  to  make  you  something 
nearer ;  how  hard  it  is  to  me  that  this  barrier  has  exist- 
ed whose  only  use  is  to  separate  us.  Must  this  condi- 
tion continue,  or  is  there  a  greater  happiness  for  me  in 
U*  future?" 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  a  1  5 

Prank  Selden  was  a  good  deal  longer  in  saying  this 
than  the  reader  is  in  perusing  the  sentences.  At  each 
period  he  paused  to  observe  the  effect  of  his  words  on 
the  young  wife,  and  when  he  found  that  they  had  not 
offended  her  perceptibly  he  drew  nearer  to  her  and 
whispered  his  persuasions  closer  to  her  ear.  She  felt 
his  warm  breath  on  her  neck.  The  magnetic  attraction 
that  he  had  for  women  thrilled  her  frame  as  it  never 
had  been  thrilled  before.  But  though  she  remained 
passive  even  when  he  placed  an  arm  about  her,  and 
touched  his  lips  to  her  cheek,  there  was  a  horrible  fear 
of  a  great  danger  present,  above  all  the  rest. 

"  I  value  your  friendship  very  highly,  Mr.  Selden,"  she 
managed  to  articulate,  when  he  had  resumed  his  ordi- 
nary position.  "  It  is  all  the  more  to  me  now  that  I 
find  it  unaffected  by  the  confession  I  have  thought  it 
my  duty  to  make." 

He  drew  an  impatient  breath. 

"  Friendship  is  not  enough,  my  dear  girl,"  he  replied. 
"  I  am  a  man  with  no  other  attachments,  with  plenty  of 
means  and  without  a  place  I  can  call  my  home.  To  be 
sure,  there  is  my  mother's  house,  but  I  am  as  much  out 
of  tune  in  it  as  a  bull  in  a  china-shop.  I  have  a  suite  of 
rooms  too,  furnished  as  well  as  anybody's,  and  situated 
in  a  pleasant  locality.  But  with  two  homes,  I  have  none. 
It  takes  more  than  four  walls  and  a  lot  of  furniture  to 
make  a  home.  It  takes  affection  —  the  presence  of 
those  we  love.  Mattie,  I  have  no  skill  in  telling 
what  I  want,  but  if  you  would  come  to  Boston  and 
take  that  suite  of  rooms  —  so  that  I  could  be  with 


He  paused  in  the  midst  of  the  sentence,  for  Mrs, 
Stuart  had  risen  and  was  beginning  nervously  to  pull  o» 
her  gloves. 


2 16  YOUNG  ^FA  WCE TT'S  MABEL. 

He  uttered  an  exclamation  rising  also. 

"  I  have  wondered,"  said  the  woman,  in  a  very  low 
tone,  after  taking  a  deep  inspiration,  "  if  that  sort  of 
proposition  might  not  be,  after  all,  at  the  base  of  the 
kind  things  you  have  done  and  said.  I  tried  not  to 
harbor  the  thought,  for  you  seemed  so  innocent  of 
wrong  intent  and  you  were  so  long  in  making  advances. 
I  am  not  finding  any  fault  with  you,  Mr.  Selden.  I  do 
not  suppose  it  is  easy  for  a  man  to  make  such  a  sug- 
gestion in  a  more  delicate  way.  No  matter  how  neatly 
the  thought  is  concealed,  its  hideousness  will  stand 
forth  in  spite  of  the  covering.  You  wish  me  to  be  your 
mistress.  Well,  I  must  decline.  My  only  regret  is 
that  in  doing  so  I  shall  at  the  same  time  lose  a  friend- 
ship that  I  have  esteemed  very,  very  highly,  for  it  will 
be  impossible  for  us  to  meet  again." 

Selden's  face  flushed  with  mortification  and  dis- 
appointment. He  felt  that  his  cause  was  in  a  bad  way. 
The  calm,  dispassionate  manner  in  which  Mrs.  Stuart 
spoke  was  apparently  fatal  to  his  hopes.  Had  she 
sobbed,  gone  into  hysterics,  called  him  a  bad  and  cruel 
man — then  he  would  have  known  how  to  treat  her.  He 
would  have  waited  until  her  excitement  had  exhausted 
her  powers  of  resistance,  and  when  she  was  as  weak 
as  a  mouse  he  would  have  told  her  how  thoroughly  she 
misjudged  him.  Her  head  would  have  lain  on  his 
shoulder  within  fifteen  minutes,  and  she  would  have 
left  him  with  a  feeling  that  she  had  done  him  a  great 
injustice.  He  was  not  used  to  the  sort  of  reception 
that  Mattie  gave  him.  However,  he  determined  to  re- 
treat in  as  good  order  as  possible,  and  trust  to  another 
day  to  repair  his  shattered  fortunes.  It  was  evident 
aboTe  all  else  that  persuasions  at  the  present  time 
would  be  verse  than  useless. 


YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  217 

"  Mrs.  Stuart,"  he  replied,  with  great  dignity,  "  there 
is  something  of  pride  in  every  man  of  honor  that  will 
not  let  him  reply  by  direct  denial  when  accused  of 
things  for  which  he  would  feel  the  greatest  contempt. 
But  this  I  will  say,  were  I  in  search  of  a  mistress  it 
would  not  take  me  long  to  find  one,  and  I  should  not 
have  to  make  a  journey  out  of  my  native  city,  either. 
If  I  am  not  to  see  you  again  I  shall  be  very  sorry,  and 
I  should  be  still  more  so  if  I  felt  that  it  was  in  the 
most  remote  way  through  any  fault  of  mine.  I  will 
now  escort  you  to  your  car  or  to  any  point  you  desire, 
and  then  bid  you  farewell.'' 

Quite  sick  at  heart,  and  wishing  that  she  had  ex- 
pressed her  fears  in  a  different  way,  Mattie  said  she 
would  go  to  the  nearest  station  on  the  Third  Avenue 
Elevated,  so  as  to  cross  the  Bridge.  With  the  most 
perfect  courtesy  Mr.  Selden  accompanied  her  to  the 
place  indicated,  talking  on  the  way  of  ordinary  things, 
in  an  endeavor  to  divert  her  mind  and  his  own  from 
the  unpleasant  subject  that  had  divided  them.  They 
had  nearly  reached  the  railroad  and  were  slacking  their 
pace  slightly,  each  one  in  the  hope  that  the  other  would 
say  something  to  break  the  bar  between  them,  when  a 
man  came  around  a  corner,  took  a  sharp  look  at  the 
pair,  seemed  surprised,  and  half  stopped  in  his  walk. 
Mattie  clung  tightly  to  the  arm  she  had  grasped  in  the 
suddenness  of  her  astonishment,  and  forced  Selden  to 
a  more  rapid  pace  in  the  hope  of  escaping  an  unpleas- 
ant meeting. 

Frank  saw  at  a  glance  that  his  companion  had  a 
strong  wish  not  to  speak  to  the  man,  and  his  curiosity 
was  at  once  aroused.  He  thought  the  circumstance 
suspicious  in  itself,  and  an  idea  that  there  might  be 
something  compromising  to  be  discovered  entered  his 


2 1 8  YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

brain.  He  declined,  therefore,  to  be  compelled  t« 
hasten  his  steps,  and  in  fact  rather  slackened  them. 

"  You  didn't  seem  to  want  that  fellow  to  see  you," 
he  said,  pausing  at  the  foot  of  the  iron  stairway. 

"  I'm  g»ing  now,"  she  replied  rapidly,  not  pretending 
to  answer  his  insinuation.  "  Good-bye." 

She  was  about  to  ascend  the  steps  when  Selden  took 
her  by  the  arm.  She  looked  into  his  eyes  and  saw  the 
flames  of  a  jealous  rage  lighted  there. 

"  Don't,  I  beg  you  !  "  she  said,  in  a  terrified  whisper. 
"  He  is  coming  back  !  Oh,  please,  please,  let  me  go ! " 

The  man  was  coming  back.  He  had  nearly  reached 
them.  A  train,  bound  for  the  Bridge,  was  thundering 
along  the  track  from  the  north.  If  Mattie  could  have 
escaped  the  detaining  arm  on  her  sleeve  she  might 
have  caught  it  and  have  avoided  an  encounter  she  es- 
pecially dreaded  at  that  time.  The  second  passed,  and 
it  was  too  late.  The  voice  of  the  man  sounded  in  her 
ears. 

"  Well,  it  is  you,  Mattie,  after  all.  I  thought  it  was, 
and  then  I  thought  it  wasn't." 

Nothing  in  the  presence  of  this  third  party  prevented 
the  woman  from  darting  a  look  of  agony  into  the  pene- 
trating eyes  of  Frank  Selden.  It  said  as  plainly  as 
vords,  "  Oh,  why  did  you  let  this  happen  ? " 

"  Mr.  Selden,"  she  said,  with  an  effort,  "  this  is  Mr. 
Stuart." 

Instantly  Frank  was  sorry  for  what  he  had  done.  He 
did  not  care  to  meet  Mr.  Stuart,  and  he  did  not  care  to 
have  Mrs.  Stuart  meet  him.  There  was  an  awkward 
pause  of  a  moment,  and  then  the  two  men  went  through 
the  conventional  formality — often  the  most  disagreeable 
of  fashion's  obligations — and  shook  hands  with  each 
other.  Frank  thought  of  the  heroes  of  the 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  219 

who  do  likewise,  and  comforted  himself  with  the  con* 
viction  that  he  would  knock  out  this  adversary  yet,  if 
he  were  given  rounds  enough. 

"  Mr.  Algernon  Stuart  ?  "  he  said,  to  make  sure. 

There  might  be  a  thousand  other  Stuarts  in  the 
world  that  Mattie  knew. 

Mr.  Stuart  bowed.  He  was  not  given  to  prolixity  in 
conversation.  He  turned  to  his  wife,  and  seemed  to 
wait  for  her  to  begin  the  talking. 

"Mr.  Selden,"  said  Mattie,  as  if  she  needed  to 
defend  herself  in  advance  on  account  of  being  seen 
with  him,  "  is  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Fawcett's — Mabel,  you 
know." 

Mr.  Stuart  said,  "  Ah ! "  in  a  way  that  left  Selden  in 
doubt  whether  he  ought,  or  ought  not,  to  kick  him. 
Had  he  realized  the  vacuity  of  Stuart's  thoughts  he 
would  have  been  at  ease  on  that  point  at  least.  As  he 
appeared  to  a  certain  degree  de  trop,  Frank  began  to 
say  something  about  an  engagement  that  he  had,  think- 
ing in  this  manner  to  take  leave  of  them. 

Mattie  shot  at  him  a  look  of  wild  entreaty. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  have  an 
engagement  in  Brooklyn  1 " 

Selden  understood.  She  hated  above  all  things 
being  left  alone  with  her  husband.  He  pretended, 
with  a  light  laugh,  to  recollect  the  Brooklyn  appoint- 
ment, and  stood  waiting  for  her  next  cue.  It  was 
agreeable  to  know  that  a  pretty  woman  wanted  him  to 
go  with  her  so  as  to  keep  her  husband  away.  There 
was  certainly  something  in  that  to  soothe  the  feelings 
that  had  been  wounded  a  half  hour  before. 

*  When  did  you  come  to  the  city  ? "  asked  Mattie.  of 
her  other  half. 

*  A  fortnight  ago,*'  answered  Stuart 


22«  YOUNG  FA  WCETrS  MABEL, 

"And  when  are  you  going  back  to  Cleveland?"  she 
inquired,  with  features  as  impassive  as  ice. 

"  Pretty  soon.  I  was  going  to  try  and  come  over  to 
see  you  in  a  day  or  two.  I — I've  been  rather  busy." 

Selden  was  apparently  engrossed  in  watching  the 
embarking  and  disembarking  of  the  passengers  on  a 
southern  train,  but  he  heard  every  syllable. 

"  There's  sickness  in  the  house,"  said  Mattie,  with 
rigid  lips.  "  It's  the  child,  and  they  think  it's  conta* 
gious.  The  doctor  has  forbidden  visitors." 

Stuart  was  evidently  relieved. 

"  Well,  in  that  case,"  he  said  slowly,  "  of  course  I 
won't  come." 

"  No,"  said  his  wife.  "  It  wouldn't  do.  My  train 
will  be  here  in  a  minute,  so  I  must  go  now." 

Mr.  Stuart  lifted  his  hat  at  the  couple  as  they  as- 
cended the  stairs,  quite  as  if  neither  of  them  was  more 
than  an  ordinary  acquaintance  of  his,  and  went  on  up 
the  street.  Selden  turned  twice  before  he  boarded  the 
train,  and  he  saw  that  the  husband  did  not  look  back. 

"  How  far  shall  I  go  with  you  ?  "  he  asked  Mattie, 
when  the  name  of  the  third  station  on  their  way  had 
been  called  by  the  brakesman. 

"  You  can  leave  any  time  now,  if  it  is  necessary," 
she  replied  gently.  "  You  have  done  me  a  great  favor, 
for  which  I  cannot  thank  you  enough." 

He  gave  her  a  winning  smile. 

"  Then  we  are  not  sworn  enemies  ?  "  he  asked. 

«  No." 

"  And  perhaps,  some  day,  when  you  have  learned 
that  I  meant  none  of  the  hateful  things  you  imagined, 
you  will  see  me  again  ? " 

Mrs.  Stuart  lowered  her  head  and  looked  out  of  the 
car  window  at  the  tops  of  the  adjacent  houses. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MA&EL.  221 

"Will  it  be  best?"  she  asked  meaningly.  "Of 
what  use  can  I  ever  be  to  you  ? " 

He  laughed  cheerfully  and  told  her  it  would  be  f airel 
to  leave  that  matter  to  him.  He  liked  her  very  much, 
and  would  be  content  with  anything  except  the  desola- 
tion to  which  she  had  that  afternoon  consigned  him. 

"  I've  had  a  vivid  object-lesson  in  one  thing,"  he  said, 
reaching  over  to  touch  her  glove  with  his  own.  "  You 
have  not  a  very  deep  affection  for  your  husband." 

In  the  spasm  of  pain  which  caught  her  she  pressed 
his  hand  till  a  seal-ring  he  wore  cut  the  flesh. 

"  You  can't  conceive  how  I  detest  him  !  "  she  said. 
"  I  would  have  given  anything  rather  than  have  had  to 
meet  him  even  for  that  minute." 

Selden  put  his  disengaged  arm  over  the  back  of  the 
seat  she  occupied. 

"  And  you  will  never  go  back  to  him  ?  "  said  he,  his 
voice  trembling  slightly. 

She  faced  him  squarely. 

"  If  there  were  no  other  choice,"  she  said,  with  vehe- 
mence, "  I  would  go  to  Boston  to-night  with  you,  rather 
than  to  Cleveland  with  him  !  " 

It  was  the  time  to  leave  her  and  he  knew  it.  "  This 
is  my  station,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  car  slowed  up ; 
and  there  he  alighted. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BECAUSE   MATTIB   WAS   LONESOME. 

DURING  the  next  two  years  a  good  many  things 
occurred.  A  good  many  things  always  do  occur  in  two 
years,  if  you  stop  to  think  about  it. 

Fawcett's  business  had  a  number  of  striking  ups  and 


»2 2  YO UNG  FA  VTCE TT'S  MABEL. 

downs,  to  begin  with.  At  times  he  came  home  believ- 
ing that  he  would  have  money  enough  to  retire  before 
the  next  twelve-month  had  passed.  Again,  it  seemed 
impossible  that  he  would  ever  get  out  of  the  concern 
enough  to  pay  Frank  Selden  his  loan.  Legitimate 
transactions,  even  in  such  simple  things  as  grain  and 
produce,  are  scarce  in  these  days.  Allan  found 
that  his  firm  was  merely  a  gambler,  taking  risks 
as  men  do  on  a  table  at  Monte  Carlo,  fighting  with 
what  skill  and  luck  they  may  have  against  other  players 
on  the  same  table. 

The  strain  on  his  mind  did  not  fit  him  to  be  a  better 
husband  and  father.  When  he  thought  his  prospects 
improving  he  was  ready  to  buy  his  wife  and  child 
everything  they  might  think  they  wanted.  When  he 
experienced  a  reverse  he  doubted  whether  he  ought  to 
eat  a  full  meal  and  talked  of  selling  the  furniture  of 
the  house  he  hired.  And  Mabel,  not  knowing  enough 
to  take  the  average  of  these  conditions,  followed  his 
mercurial  temper — at  one  time  vowing  him  an  angel 
and  at  the  other  declaring,  always  with  sobs,  that  he  was 
unfit  to  live  with,  and  she  wished  he  would  leave  her 
at  once  instead  of  complaining  at  everything  she  did  or 
did  not  do. 

If  either  of  them  had  been  a  little  different,  things 
would  have  gone  better.  But  in  that  case  you  would 
not  at  this  moment  have  been  reading  the  story  of 
their  troubles,  and  perhaps  managing  to  profit  by  them, 
t  is  an  ill  wind,  says  the  old  proverb,  that  does  not 
bring  good  to  some  one. 

Among  the  other  things  that  had  happened  was  the 
removal  of  the  Fawcetts  to  a  flat  in  Forty-second  Street, 
not  very  far  from  the  Grand  Central  Depot.  Mabel 
had  asked  for  the  change,  and  it  made  no  difference  to 


YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  423 

Allan.  He  could  get  to  his  office  just  as  quickly  from 
there  as  from  Brooklyn.  On  one  of  his  waves  of  pros- 
perity he  had  bought  new  furniture,  selling  all  the  old 
to  a  second-hand  dealer,  and  his  home  was  as  tasty  as 
could  be  desired.  Mollie  still  officiated  in  the  kitchen, 
and  much  oftener  than  he  dreamed  of  acted  as  nurse- 
girl  beside.  There  was  the  more  excuse  for  this,  in  one 
sense,  because  Mrs.  Stuart  no  longer  made  a  member 
of  his  household.  She  occupied  a  little  flat  a  few 
minutes'  walk  away,  and  when  Mabel  was  not  there, 
Mattie  was  at  the  Fawcetts'. 

Mabel  had  done  a  good  deal  of  plain  and  fancy  lying 
for  her  friend.  She  had  crept  into  it  little  by  little,  until 
she  did  not  mind  it  as  much  as  she  did  at  first.  The 
capacity  for  lying  can  be  made  to  grow  to  unimagined 
proportions  sometimes.  When  Mabel  told  Allan,  nearly 
three  years  earlier,  that  Mr.  Stuart  had  gone  to  South 
America  to  engage  in  business,  she  plunged  at  the 
falsehood  like  an  amateur,  and  had  he  thought  of 
doubting  the  story  he  could  have  made  her  admit  its 
untruth  in  a  five-minutes1  cross-examination.  But  he 
suspected  nothing.  There  was  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
his  wife's,  cousin  was  what  she  professed  to  be.  Except 
on  those  occasions  when  he  felt  like  finding  fault  with 
everything  and  everybody  he  did  not  at  all  object  to 
having  her  a  member  of  his  household.  So  far  as  he 
knew  she  was  a  suitable  companion  for  his  wife,  and 
Cecil  certainly  had  a  mad  infatuation  for  her,  seeming 
to  prefer  her,  on  the  whole,  to  his  own  mamma.  When 
Cecil  liked  any  one,  she  had  a  passport  to  the  father's 
favor,  other  things  being  equal. 

Fawcett  believed  Mattie's  story  and  though  he  had 
a  slight  suspicion  that  she  was  not  over  fond  of  a  hus- 
band from  whom  she  was  willing  to  be  separated  so 


224  YOUNG  FAJVCETT'S  MABEL. 

long,  he  did  not  think  a  great  deal  about  it.  She 
behaved  well  enough  when  in  his  presence,  and  she  was 
not  the  only  woman  in  the  world  who  was  not  in  love 
with  her  marital  mate.  As  long  as  Mr.  Stuart  and  she 
were  content,  he  did  not  see  how  it  was  any  business 
of  his.  Algy  must  send  her  money,  for  she  always 
dressed  becomingly.  Allan  might  have  understood 
this  better  had  he  known  that  every  dollar  spent  on, 
her  clothes  came,  during  the  first  year,  out  of  his  own 
pocket,  and  after  that 

But  I  am  getting  ahead  a  little  too  far  in  my  story. 

Twice,  when  Cecil  had  violent  attacks  of  illness, 
Mattie  stayed  at  the  house  for  days,  nursing  him  with 
the  deepest  devotion.  She  did  not  seem  to  require 
rest  or  sleep,  and  the  boy  was  content  with  no  one  else 
when  his  pain  was  the  greatest.  Allan  could  have 
fallen  on  his  knees  to  her  at  those  times.  Her  devotion 
to  the  sick  child  made  her  a  saint  in  his  eyes.  Once, 
when  Cecil's  life  hung  on  a  thread,  she  came  into  his 
room  to  tell  him  that  a  change  for  the  better  had  taken 
place  and  that  his  idol  was  sleeping  peacefully.  His 
eyes  were  filled  with  tears  and  his  voice  choked  as  he 
tried  to  thank  her.  Taking  both  her  hands  in  his  he 
drew  her  lips  toward  his,  and  would  have  kissed  her 
had  she  permitted  him.  In  the  gentlest  manner  she 
resisted  the  caress  and  glided  back  to  the  sick  chamber. 

He  went  to  give  the  glad  news  to  Mabel  and  found 
her  asleep  !  To  be  sure,  she  was  worn  out,  but  he 
contrasted  the  two  women  to  the  disadvantage  of  his 
wife.  Mattie  had  done  enough  to  be  worn  out,  too, 
and  it  was  she  who  had  come  to  tell  him  that  his  son 
would  live. 

This  occurrence,  as  much  as  anything,  drew  him 
away  from  Mabel.  He  used  t»  compare  her  with 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT*S  MABEL.  225 

Mattie,  and  say  to  himself  how  much  better  mother  the 
latter  would  have  made.  He  got  into  the  habit  of 
staying  in  a  good  deal  in  the  evening  and  raised  no 
objection  when  Mabel  said  she  guessed,  if  he  didn't 
mind,  she  would  go  over  to  Mattie's  for  a  little  while. 
Cecil  was  well  again,  and  Allan  used  to  think  it  the 
height  of  bliss  to  undress  the  little  fellow  and  see  him 
drop  off  to  sleep.  When  the  child  was  in  dreamland, 
the  latest  magazines  or  the  newest  things  in  literature 
would  occupy  the  father's  mind  till  he  grew  sleepy. 
He  did  not  room  with  his  wife  now,  as  a  general  thing, 
and  sometimes  he  had  to  ask  her  in  the  morning  what 
time  she  came  home. 

"  I  don't  know — exactly,"  she  used  to  say.  "  I  got  to 
talking  with  Mattie,  and  never  noticed  the  clock.  She 
is  so  lonesome  that  she  likes  me  to  stay  as  late  as  I 
can." 

That  made  it  all  right  with  Fawcett.  Mabel  had 
better  be  with  Mattie  than  with  any  other  woman  he 
knew.  He  was  glad  to  encourage  such  an  intimacy. 

Allan  used  to  see  Frank  Selden  once  in  a  while. 
Frank  called  at  his  rooms  to  talk  with  him  on  business 
and  social  topics,  and  Allan  liked  him  as  well  as  ever. 
He  still  had  Frank's  money,  though  he  paid  the  inter- 
est promptly,  and  the  principal  had,  on  the  whole, 
grown  in  size,  according  to  the  figures  on  the  books  of 
Decker  &  Co. 

Mrs.  Stuart  spent  some  of  her  evenings  at  Mabel's,  but 
it  never  happened  that  Selden  dropped  in  when  she  was 
there.  As  far  as  Allan  knew  those  two  people  had 
never  seen  each  other  more  than  two  or  three  times  in 
their  lives.  It  was  not  strange  that  Frank  found  New 
York  more  agreeable  than  Boston.  He  required  a  good 
deal  of  excitement,  and  the  Hub  was  certainly  the 
»S 


Vt6  YOUNG  FA  WCETrS  MABEL. 

duller  place  of  the  two  when  it  came  to  that  line  of 
amusements  classed  under  the  general  head  of  dis- 
sipation. • 

"  When  does  Mrs.  Stuart's  husband  intend  to  return 
to  America  ? "  asked  Fawcett,  one  evening  at  the  din- 
ner-table, of  his  wife.  "  It  seems  to  me  they  are  having 
a  rather  long  separation." 

Mabel  glanced  at  him  quickly  to  see  if  there  was  any 
hidden  meaning  in  his  inquiry.  No,  there  was  none, 
and  she  drew  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  say  anything  about  it,"  she 
answered.  "  She  read  me  his  last  letter  and  he  seemed 
quite  contented  where  he  was." 

"  He  must  be  a  queer  fellow,"  observed  Fawcett. 
"  I  don't  see  how  a  man  can  be  content  for  years  away 
from  a  woman  like  her.  There  are  some  wives  that 
a  fellow  might  consider  himself  lucky  to  be  so  far 
from,  but  not  a  sweet,  lovable  girl  like  Mattie.  The 
strangest  thing  to  me  is  that  she  stands  it." 

Mabel  looked  at  him  again.  Could  he  be  drawing 
comparisons  ?  She  dismissed  the  thought  as  soon  as 
it  was  formed.  Allan  was  not  one  to  insinuate.  When 
he  had  anything  to  say  it  was  apt  to  come  out  like  a 
bullet  from  a  gun. 

"Mattie  doesn't  care  for  men,"  she  said,  simply. 
And  as  she  uttered  the  words  her  cheek  grew  like  fire, 
in  spite  of  her  efforts. 

"  What  did  she  marry  one  for,  then  ? "  he  blurted  out. 
**  Oh,  these  modern  marriages,  they  make  me  wild. 
People  marry  nowadays  just  as  they  buy  a  ticket  for 
a  theatre,  and  if  they  don't  happen  to  fancy  their  seat, 
they  go  out  between  the  acts.  I'd  like  to  know  what 
the  world  is  coming  to.  Now,  I'd  wager  a  dollar  that 
Mrs.  Stuart  is  not  so  contented  at  the  long  absence  of 


Y9UNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  »a 7 

her  husband  as  she  wants  you  to  think.  There  is  a 
species  of  pride  that  will  make  a  woman  suffer  a  great 
deal  in  such  a  case  without  admitting  it  to  her  dearest 
friend.  She  was  made  to  be  loved,  that  girl  was,  and 
it  makes  me  sad  every  time  I  think  of  her  living  alJ 
alone  in  that  solitary  flat." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  did  not  relish  over-much  this  panegyric. 
She  remembered  the  time  when  this  same  Mattie  had 
caused  her  uneasiness,  in  the  days  of  her  early  ac- 
quaintance with  Allan.  It  gave  her  a  start  to  hear  him 
praising  her  now,  in  that  enthusiastic  way.  She  had 
never  had  a  moment's  jealousy  of  her  husband  since 
their  marriage.  She  had  a  glimpse  for  a  second  of  how 
she  should  feel  if  Allan  ever  gave  her  cause  for  a  visit 
from  the  green-eyed  monster. 

If  Mabel  had  been  told,  when  her  concealment  of 
Mattie  Stuart's  troubles  began,  that  she  would  have 
gone  as  far  in  her  defence  as  she  was  now  going,  she 
would  have  repelled  the  idea  with  the  utmost  indigna- 
tion. Her  loyalty  to  her  friend  was  the  outgrowth  of 
what  was  really  a  lovable  trait  in  her  disposition. 
The  demands  upon  her  came  so  gradually  that  one  step 
led  into  another  before  she  realized  what  she  was  doing. 
First,  it  was  to  pretend  that  the  reason  Mr.  Stuart  did 
not  come  to  Norwood  was  because  he  had  taken  a 
journey  to  the  far  South.  Next,  she  gave  Mattie  little 
things  in  the  way  of  clothing  out  of  her  own  stock,  as 
she  found  them  needed.  Pretty  soon,  when  the  two 
women  were  shopping  together,  new  articles  for  Mattie's 
original  use  were  purchased  with  Mr.  Fawcett's  money. 

It  was  not  so  very  wrong,  Mabel  said  to  herself.  It 
did  not  amount  to  a  great  deal,  and  Mattie  needed  the 
things  badly.  She  would  use  less  that  Mattie  might 
have  a  share.  The  young  wife  was  so  deeply  attached 


228  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

to  her  friend  that  she  could  not  bear  to  think  of  a 
separation,  and  whatever  was  in  Mabel's  purse  was 
equally  at  cither's  disposal. 

Frank  Selden  had  had  his  way,  long  before  Mabel 
had  dreamed  of  it.  Skilled  in  the  art  of  winning 
women,  he  had  slowly  but  surely  taught  Mattie  Stuart 
to  believe  that  the  love  she  felt  for  him  should  be  more 
to  her  than  the  flimsy  tie  the  law  recognized  as  bind- 
ing her  to  a  man  she  feared  and  hated.  The  clandes- 
tine meetings  came  to  mean  a  glimpse  of  heaven  to  the 
disconsolate  young  woman. 

To  do  Frank  what  justice  we  may,  he  had  a  real 
affection  for  Mattie,  and  from  the  time  he  could  call 
her  his  own  he  gave  her  the  fealty  that  a  real  wife 
might  have  claimed.  She  did  not  want  to  go  to  live  at 
Boston,  for  her  attachment  to  Mabel  was  at  least  the 
second  strongest  one  she  had,  and  Selden  was  well 
pleased  to  remain  in  New  York.  It  was  at  her  sug» 
gestion  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  persuaded  her  husband  to 
remove  to  Forty-second  Street,  where  their  homes  could 
be  adjacent. 

The  flat  that  Mattie  occupied  was  a  very  inexpensive 
one,  and  Mabel  was  completely  deceived  when  she 
came  to  her  with  the  story  that  her  husband  had  agreed 
to  send  her  a  small  sum  each  month,  that  would  cover 
the  rent  and  an  economical  table.  She  saw  no  reason 
why  Mattie  should  tell  her  an  untruth.  Algy  had  a 
fixed  income  and  it  was  reasonable  that  he  should  have 
concluded  to  do  the  decent  thing  and  let  his  wife  have 
a  part  of  it.  Mrs.  Stuart,  acting  under  the  direction  of 
a  shrewder  head  than  her  own,  bought  her  furniture  on 
instalments,  and  maintained  such  an  air  of  quiet 
poverty  that  Mabel  offered  assistance  in  many  ways, 
which  was  accepted  with  tb*  warmest  thanks.  For 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  229 

six  months  after  she  began  housekeeping  numerous 
articles  were  bought  on  the  Fawcett  account  and  deliv- 
ered at  the  other  flat,  with  instructions  to  the  grocer 
not  to  mention  it  to  Mr.  Fawcett  when  the  bills  were 
presented,  in  case  he  complained  that  they  were  ex- 
cessive. 

To  help  and  protect  her  friend,  Mabel  had  to  dis- 
grace her  husband  before  many  people.  From  the 
kitchen-girl  to  the  grocer  and  the  coal-dealer  there  was 
a  row  of  individuals  who  knew  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  was 
buying  goods  in  the  name  of  one  house  and  havinj 
them  sent  to  another ;  and  every  one  of  them  had  their 
own  suspicions  as  to  the  object  which  the  pretty  young 
wife  had  in  this  deception. 

The  first  thing  that  Mabel  discovered  was  on  a 
winter's  morning  when  zhe  went,  at  an  hour  earlier 
than  she  had  ever  selected,  to  make  a  call  on  Mrs. 
Stuart.  Something  had  arisen  which  she  wanted  to 
discuss  with  her  friend,  and  she  ran  over  as  soon  as 
Allan  left  the  house.  She  did  not  ring  the  lower  bell, 
as  a  tenant  was  entering  the  hallway  at  the  moment, 
but  walked  nimbly  up  the  stairs  and  knocked  at  the 
parlor  door  of  the  apartment  she  sought.  Hearing  no 
response  she  knocked  again,  this  time  much  louder, 
when  the  faint  whispering  of  two  persons  inside  came 
to  her  astonished  ears. 

The  whispering  ceased,  and  after  a  moment's  pause, 
Mrs.  Fawcett  rapped  again,  this  time  in  a  peremptory 
manner.  Then  the  noise  of  some  one  moving  was 
heard,  and  a  form  approached  the  door. 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  said  a  voice,  which  she  easily  rec- 
ognized as  Mattie's. 

"  Mabel,"  was  the  answer.  "  Let  me  in.  I  want  to 
talk  to  you." 


•30  YOUNG  FAWCETTS  MABEt^ 

There  was  a  new  scurrying,  and  a  delay  that 
incredibly  long.  But  finally  the  door  was  opened  and 
Mrs.  Stuart  was  discerned,  half  covered  with  a  dressing- 
gown  that  she  had  hastily  slipped  on. 

"What  a  terrible  time  it  takes  you  to  open  a  door  I" 
said  Mabel 

Mrs.  Stuart  looked  "  as  if  she  should  sink,"  to  use 
a  familiar  feminine  comparison.  She  had  about  the 
limpness  of  a  rag  doll,  and  was  totally  unable  for  a 
few  moments  to  make  the  least  reply.  Mrs.  Fawcett 
saw  that  something  unusual  was  the  matter,  and  thought 
it  the  part  of  kindness  to  inquire. 

"You  look  like  a  ghost! "  said  she.  « Take  a  seat 
and  tell  me  what  has  happened  to  excite  you  so." 

Mrs.  Stuart  accepted  the  suggestion  and  sank 
upon  the  sofa.  She  was  so  evidently  suffering  that 
Mabel  sat  down  beside  her  and  embraced  her  affec- 
tionately. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  my  poor  child  I "  she  said.  "  I 
know  you  have  company,  for  I  heard  you  whispering. 
Who  is  it,  and  why  are  you  so  agitated  ?  Your  hands 
are  like  ice  and  you  are  trembling  like  a  leaf." 

The  hope  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  had  not  heard — to 
which  she  had  clung  like  a  drowning  man  to  a  spar- 
deserted  Mrs.  Stuart.  She  could  only  cry,  in  a  faint 
voice,  "  Oh,  Mabel/"  and  fall  weeping  on  the  other's 
•boulder. 

"Wait,  my  dear!  Don't  get  excited.  Take  your 
time,"  said  Mabel,  soothingly.  "  Whatever  your  trou- 
ble is,  I  will  help  you  share  it.  I  am  so  glad  I  came 
over  this  morning.  I  had  you  on  my  mind  all  night 
My  dreams  were  filled  with  you." 

Mattie  was  not  in  the  least  prepared  for  this  visit 
and  did  not  know  what  to  say.  She  had  never  calcv- 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  » jt 

feted  on  Mabel's  calling  before  afternoon,  and  had  not 
imagined  that  it  was  she  at  the  door  when  she  heard 
the  knock.  She  feared  to  speak,  lest  in  trying  to  make 
things  right  with  her  friend  she  might  get  herself  into 
a  worse  dilemma.  She  remained  silent  so  long  that 
Mrs.  Fawcett  began  to  ask  questions. 

"  Who  slept  with  you  last  night,  Mattie  ?  I  know 
that  must  have  something  to  do  with  the  matter." 

Mrs.  Stuart  gave  a  gasp.  Was  there  anything  that 
could  save  her  secret  now  ? 

"  No  one  slept  with  me,"  she  replied,  as  if  her 
tongue  was  partly  paralyzed.  "  I — didn't  want  to  tell 
you,  for  fear  you  would  think  it  foolish,  but — I  have  a 
lodger." 

A  lodger  t  To  eke  out  her  slender  income !  Mabel 
thought  she  saw  it  all  now.  Mattie  had  hesitated 
to  tell  her,  in  the  pride  of  her  poverty.  Well,  it  was 
nothing  to  mind — nothing  at  all.  She  was  about 
to  say  so,  when  Mrs.  Stuart  upset  the  whole  kettle  by 
her  next  statement. 

"  I — I  wanted  the  money,  you  know,"  she  went  on. 
"And  he  will  pay  well,  very  well,  indeed.  He " 

She  could  get  no  farther.  Releasing  the  hold  she 
had  had  upon  her,  Mrs.  Fawcett  rose,  with  a  look  of 
horror  on  her  face. 

"A  man!"  she  exclaimed.  "A  man!  And  you 
were  in  that  chamber  together — I  heard  you  whisper- 
ing  with  him  I  Mattie — tell  me  the  truth  J " 

The  poor  woman  rose  and  stretched  out  her  hands 
imploringly. 

"Don't  be  so  hard,  Mabel.  You  are  not  right. 
He  was  in  the  next  room,  not  in  mine.  I  thought — it 
was  some  one — for  him,  who  knocked — for  I  did  not 
expect  a  caller  so  early.  No,  you  accuse  me  unjustly. 


8J2  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Believe  me,  Mabel  I  If  you  lose  faith  in  me  I  have 
nothing  left." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  thought  rapidly.  She  did  not  wish 
to  believe  wrong  of  this  woman,  but  neither  did  sh« 
wish  to  be  deceived. 

"Tell  me  who  that  man  is ! "  she  said,  in  an  impera- 
tive tone. 

"  Ah  I  You  can  guess,"  was  the  blushing  reply, 
"  But  he  has  the  further  room — oh,  believe  me,  Mabel  1 M 

Suddenly  a  light  seemed  to  dawn  on  the  questioner. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Stuart  1 "  she  cried.  "  Well,  well !  You 
needn't  act  so  frightened  about  it.  And  you  didn't 
mean  that  I  should  know  I  Poor  little  girl !  "  She 
folded  Mattie  in  her  arms  again.  "  Is  he  to  stay  long? 
I  know  it  must  be  unpleasant  for  you.  There  !  Don't 
say  another  word.  I'll  keep  mum.  Let  me  know  after 
this  when  he's  at  home  and  I'll  never  disturb  you.  I 
wouldn't  meet  him  for  a  diamond  necklace.  I  only 
came  to  see  if  you  would  go  to  the  theatre  this  after- 
noon, but  another  day  will  do.  The  best  thing  for  me 
Is  to  get  out,  as  I  couldn't  possibly  use  him  decent 
if  he  should  come  into  the  room.  Come  over  by  and  by 
if  you  can,  and  send  me  a  note  next  time  when  the 
coast  is  clear." 

She  kissed  her  friend  warmly,  not  waiting  for  her  to 
reply,  and  made  a  hasty  exit  And  Mrs.  Stuart  stood 
looking  at  the  door  through  which  she  had  vanished, 
wondering  at  the  miracle  that  had  saved  her  from  what 
looked  like  a  bottomless  pit  opening  at  her  feet 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

AN  UNPLEASANT  SITUATION. 

FOR  a  long  time  the  game  of  mutual  deception  went 
on  in  this  manner — Mrs.  Fawcett  deceiving  her  hus- 
band and  Mrs.  Stuart  deceiving  her.  Mabel  wanted 
to  tell  Allan  that  Stuart  had  returned  from  South 
America,  saying  to  Mattie  that  this  might  make  things 
easier  in  case  he  should  come  to  learn  that  Algernon 
was  in  the  city,  but  Mattie  begged  her  above  all  things 
to  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  She  pretended  that  Mr. 
Stuart  only  came  at  infrequent  intervals,  and  that  she 
endured  him  merely  for  the  pecuniary  assistance  he 
had  begun  to  give  her.  It  might  be  weeks  at  a  time, 
she  said,  that  he  would  be  absent,  and  she  did  not 
want  Fawcett  to  know  or  think  anything  about  the 
matter. 

Having  been  so  near  detection  once,  Mrs.  Stuart  was 
on  her  guard  after  that  day,  and  months  went  by 
before  anything  more  came  to  arouse  Mabel's  suspi- 
cions. All  this  time  she  was  getting  used  to  telling 
her  husband  things  that  were  untrue,  and  became 
in  fact  a  most  accomplished  and  smooth  falsifier.  She 
and  Allan  got  along  together  without  much  friction, 
though  his  temper  depended  a  good  deal  on  the  state 
of  the  hay  and  grain  market.  They  were  not  compan- 
ions in  the  way  that  marriage  is  supposed  to  make  peo- 
ple, but  they  did  not  quarrel  seriously.  Mabel  was 
willing  to  get  most  of  her  amusement  with  Mattie,  and 
he  was  quite  willing  she  should. 


834  Y0UNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

With  Fawcett  the  day  was  divided  into  four  parts, 
He  attended  to  business  till  six  o'clock  ;  played  with 
Cecil  till  eight  or  nine  ;  read  till  half-past  ten  or 
eleven;  and  slept  soundly— in  his  own  room — till 
morning.  Mabel  spent  most  of  her  afternoons  and 
some  of  her  evenings  at  Mattie's  flat,  when  Mattie  was 
not  at  hers.  Often  she  took  Cecil  with  her.  Fre- 
quently when  there  was  a  matine'e  the  two  women 
attended  it.  Allan  was  little  more  in  her  life  than 
a  provider  of  necessities. 

Mrs.  Morey  came  to  see  the  Fawcetts  once  in  awhile, 
but  she  did  not  make  long  visits.  Her  sister,  Mrs. 
Selden,  was  in  miserable  health  and  required  her  con- 
stant care  at  Boston.  She  saw  nothing  to  cause  her 
to  suspect  that  anything  was  wrong  with  Mattie,  and 
quite  approved  of  the  attempt  on  Mabel's  part  to  make 
her  life  less  disagreeable.  The  only  thing  she  did  not 
like  was  the  fact  that  her  daughter  occupied  a  room 
apart  from  her  husband. 

"  I  know  it  is  a  modern  notion,  my  dear,"  she  said, 
in  response  to  Mabel's  statement  to  that  effect,  "  but 
I  do  not  believe  in  it  any  more  for  that.  A  husband 
and  wife  are  in  constant  danger  of  being  drawn  away 
from  each  other,  and  the  first  thing  likely  to  produce 
that  effect  is  their  separation  at  night." 

"  But  Allan  sleeps  as  soundly  as  a  bat,"  said  Mabel, 
"when  he  is  not  disturbed,  and  he  likes  it  better 
this  way.  Sometimes  I  have  to  get  up  with  Cecil, 
and  then  it  might  wake  him  and  he  would  perhaps  lose 
the  whole  of  the  rest  of  the  night.  And  then,  he 
does  not  like  feathers,  and  you  know  I've  always  slept 
on  them." 

The  widow  shook  her  head  gravely. 

"  A  woman  who  loves  her  husband  as  she  ought," 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  §35 

said  she,  "would  not  know  whether  she  slept  on 
feathers  or  stone,  so  that  his  arms  were  about  her! 
Be  careful,  Mabel,  not  to  let  Allan  get  too  far  from 
you,  while  you  are  young.  When  your  hair  begins  to 
silver  there  will  come  enough  danger  of  losing  him 
for  a  fresher  and  prettier  face.  In  that  day  give  him 
no  excuse  of  previous  coldness  to  seek  another  love. " 

Mabel  flushed  at  the  thought — the  one  thought  that 
could  cause  her  heart  to  beat  faintly.  If  Allan  should 
ever  even  look  lovingly  at  another  woman  it  seemed  to 
her  that  she  should  die. 

"  I  am  not  cold  to  him,  mamma,"  she  said.  "  Allan 
is  a  peculiar  man  and  he  gets  tired  out  with  his  office- 
work.  It  is  his  preference  to  secure  undisturbed  rest 
I  can't  force  myself  upon  him.  You  worry  over  things 
that  nobody  can  help." 

Mrs.  Morey  was  not  satisfied  with  the  explanation, 
but  she  was  too  wise  to  press  the  matter.  She  had 
given  Mabel  her  ideas  on  the  subject  and  hoped  they 
would  bear  fruit  for  good. 

One  day,  after  her  mother  had  returned  to  Boston, 
Mabel  was  about  to  enter  the  building  where  Mattie 
lived  when  she  saw  Frank  Selden  emerging  from  it 
He  saw  her  at  the  same  moment  and  with  the  quick- 
ness of  a  flash  decided  to  tell  her  as  much  of  the  truth 
as  he  dared,  knowing  that  were  she  to  become  sus- 
picious she  could  interview  the  janitor  with  damaging 
effect. 

"  Hallo,  Mabel  I "  he  exclaimed  gayly.  "  Why  didn't 
you  come  a  little  sooner  ?  I've  been  upstairs  looking 
for  Stuart,  and  if  you  had  been  there  your  cousin 
might  have  had  the  grace  to  invite  me  in.  Algy's  out 
of  tow*,  she  says." 

Maoel  looked  at  him  with  some  surprise. 


Sj6  YOUNG  FAWCETrS  MABEL. 

«I  didn't  know  you  knew  Mr.  Stuart,"  she  re- 
marked. 

"And  you  evidently  don't  think  it  much  to  my 
credit  that  I  do,"  he  laughed.  "  A  fellow  is  pushed 
for  good  company  in  a  town  like  this,  sometimes.  I 
happened  to  meet  the  Cleveland  gentleman  at  a  club 
that  I  frequent,  and  he  asked  me  to  call  on  him  some 
day  when  I  had  nothing  else  to  do.  It  was  because  I 
had  reached  exactly  that  deplorable  condition  this 
afternoon  that  I  came  here.  I  really  am  dying  for 
something  to  occupy  my  time.  You  might  ask  me 
up  with  you,  if  you  are  going  to  make  a  call." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  saw  no  objection  to  this  and  gave  the 
invitation  accordingly.  Selden  knew  that  he  was  run- 
ning a  reckless  risk  to  go  back  to  Mattie's  apartments 
in  Mabel's  company  without  preparing  Mrs.  Stuart  in 
any  way,  but  he  liked  sensational  things  and  thought 
it  would  be  great  fun.  When  Mattie  came  to  the  door 
in  response  to  the  knock  he  spoke  at  once  to  set  things 
right. 

"  My  cousin  wants  to  have  a  little  talk  with  me,"  he 
said,  smiling,  "  and  she  thinks  you  will  let  me  come  in 
here  for  a  few  minutes." 

Mattie  controlled  herself  with  a  great  effort. 

"  Certainly,  she  is  quite  right,"  she  answered.  "  You 
can  have  the  parlor  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure." 

"  Oh,  we  don't  want  to  drive  you  out  of  it,"  Selden 
said,  with  another  laugh.  "  To  tell  the  exact  truth, 
I  persuaded  her  to  let  me  come  up,  as  I  don't  know 
what  else  to  do  with  myself.  I  was  quite  disappointed 
not  to  find  Mr.  Stuart  in  when  I  called  a  few  min- 
utes ago.  I  did  not  know  he  had  left  the  city." 

With  these  few  words  he  had  given  her  the  key  to  the 
entire  situation.  Seeing  that  Mattie  was  not  likely  to 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  237 

be  betrayed  into  any  exposure  Frank  set  about  mak- 
ing himself  as  agreeable  as  possible  to  both  of  them 
and  succeeded  admirably.  Before  he  left  they  had 
agreed  to  go  with  him  to  a  play  that  was  attracting 
great  attention  and  which  neither  had  yet  seen. 

"  Allan  always  puts  Cecil  to  bed  now,"  explained 
Mabel,  "  and  I  am  out  very  often  till  quite  late.  He 
goes  to  sleep  early  and  never  knows  when  I  come  in." 

Selden  knew  by  the  way  she  said  this  that  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Fawcett  were  drifting  a  little  apart,  but  he 
affected  to  notice  nothing.  It  was  enough  for  him  that 
he  could  get  out  of  doors  with  Mattie  under  the  cover 
of  her  married  cousin.  He  had  been  fearful  of  being 
seen  with  her,  especially  at  places  of  amusement,  lest 
some  suspicious  person  should  notice  them  together. 
Now  it  would  be  easy  enough.  If  he  could  quiet 
Mabel's  notions  of  propriety,  he  could  take  them  both 
to  a  hundred  places  and  explain  everything  by  her 
presence  in  the  party.  One  was  his  own  cousin— 
quite  the  same  thing  as  a  member  of  his  family. 
The  other  bore  the  same  relationship  to  her.  He  was 
greatly  elated  when  he  left  the  house  with  Mabel,  a 
little  before  the  time  that  Allan  was  expected  to  din- 
ner, and  as  soon  as  she  was  around  the  corner  he  took 
out  his  latch-key  and  went  in  again. 

"  We  shall  have  everything  our  own  way  now,"  he 
cried  to  Mattie.  "  We  have  only  to  reckon  Mabel  one 
of  us  to  go  where  we  like." 

Mrs.  Stuart  loved  this  man  with  her  whole  soul.  She 
would  never  have  sacrificed  so  much  for  him  had  it 
not  been  for  the  deep  affection  that  had  moved  her 
heart.  His  wealth  had  little  to  do  with  it.  She  took 
of  what  he  offered  her  only  enough  to  support  the  bare 
•eoessities  of  existence.  He  would  have  given  her  aa 


238  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

elegant  house,  richly  furnished ;  she  accepted  merely 
the  cheap  flat  with  its  ordinary  furniture.  He  wantetf 
her  to  wear  diamonds  on  her  fingers  and  the  finest 
clothing  ;  she  persuaded  him  that  such  a  course  would 
only  lead  to  the  discovery  of  their  secret.  She  loved 
him,  deeply,  tenderly.  The  contrast  which  his  devo- 
tion presented  with  the  conduct  of  her  legal  mate  was 
most  pronounced. 

"  I  wouldn't  get  Mabel  into  trouble  for  anything  in 
the  world,"  she  replied,  thoughtfully. 

"  How  could  it  do  that  ? "  he  asked.  "  She  doesn't 
have  any  too  much  fun,  with  that  money-grubbing 
man  of  hers.  Supposing  we  go  to  an  occasional  play, 
and  to  a  supper  or  two  at  a  private  restaurant,  who  is 
it  going  to  harm  ?  And  it  will  be  such  a  god-send  to 
us  !  If  the  devil  himself  should  walk  in  and  say  to 
me,  '  What  are  you  doing  with  these  women  ? '  I  should 
only  have  to  say,  *  Allow  me  to  present  my  cousin  Mrs. 
Fawcett — my  mother's  sister's  daughter.'  And  Mabel 
would  rise  with  equal  grace  to  add,  And  my  cousin, 
Mrs.  Stuart,  my  father's  sister's  child.  Why,  there's 
absolutely  no  flaw  in  it  1 " 

And  this  is  the  way  it  came  about  that  Mrs.  Favr- 
cett  accompanied  her  cousin  and  her  cousin's  para- 
mour to  all  sorts  of  places,  where  they  were  seen  by 
all  sorts  of  people,  who  formed  all  sorts  of  conclusions. 
The  regard  that  Frank  had  for  Mattie  was  too  strong 
to  be  wholly  concealed  even  in  Mabel's  presence.  In 
the  private  dining-rooms  to  which  they  went  she  could 
not  fail  to  perceive  the  delicacy  of  his  touch  when  he 
took  off  her  cloak  or  helped  her  on  with  it,  the  gentle- 
ness of  his  voice  when  he  addressed  her  •  the  rapt  at- 
tention that  he  paid  when  she  was  speaking.  It  all 
came  in  such  a  consecutive  order  that  Mabel  did  not 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  239 

mind  it  She  was  glad  that  Mattie  had  found  so  good 
a  friend,  and  that  Frank  had  apparently  changed  so 
much  for  the  better.  She  was  quite  prepared  to  hear 
without  dissent  what  he  told  her  once,  when  they 
had  gone  to  Mrs.  Stuart's  door  with  her,  and  he  was 
pretending  to  seek  his  own  room  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion. 

"  Mabel,  I  wouldn't  like  you  to  say  so  to  her,  but  if 
Mrs.  Stuart  ever  gets  a  divorce  from  that  worthless 
fellow  who  has  ruined  her  life,  I  shall  ask  her  to 
marry  me." 

"  I  wish  she  could,"  was  the  reply.  "  Can't  you  find 
out  if  there  isn't  a  way  ?  She  hates  him,  and  there  is 
no  reason  why  she  should  cling  to  such  a  worse  than 
useless  marriage  as  hers." 

*'  It's  an  unpleasant  situation  for  both  of  us,"  mused 
Frank.  "  She  can't  help  knowing  how  much  I  care  for 
her,  and  yet  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  say  anything." 

Mabel  walked  on  for  a  short  time  thoughtfully. 

"Don't  they  give  divorces  for  desertion?"  she 
queried  presently. 

u  Not  when  the  husband  comes  and  occupies  the 
flat  with  his  wife  every  few  weeks,  I'm  afraid." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  looked  up  eagerly. 

"Oh,  but  that's  nothing,"  she  said.  "He  has  a 

room  there,  but "  She  paused,  for  the  rich  blood 

had  flooded  her  cheeks. 

"  You  mean,"  said  Frank,  slowly,  "  that  she  is  not 
living  with  him  as  his  wife." 

"  Fm  sure  she  isn't,"  said  Mabel  earnestly. 

"  So  am  I,"  he  replied  darkly.  "  If  I  thought  she 
was,  I'd  go  up  there  and  land  him  in  the  back- yard 
with  a  broken  neck.  Yes,  Mabel,  I  will  see  what  the 
law  can  do.  I  will  consult  my  own  attorney  to-morrow. 


2  40  YQ  UN6  FA  WCE  TT  'S  MA  BEL. 

In  the  meantime  she  mustn't  know  anything  about  it 
She  is  very  high-minded  and  might  resent  such  inter- 
ference in  her  affairs." 

Mabel  thought  Frank  very  honorable.  It  was 
romantic  to  be  loved  in  that  way  by  a  man  who  held 
his  dulcinea  in  such  esteem  that  he  would  not  speak  a 
word  that  might  lower  her  in  her  own  eyes.  She  was 
glad  to  have  the  opportunity  of  helping  on  that  ideal 
match  when  the  Stuart  chain  should  drop  from  her 
friend's  neck. 

"  Why  does  she  allow  him  to  come  there  at  all  ? " 
asked  Selden.  "  It  would  be  better  if  she  refused  him 
entrance." 

"  She  would  be  glad  to  if  she  could  afford  it,"  ex- 
plained Mabel,  with  the  utmost  frankness.  "Mattie 
hasn't  a  cent  of  her  own,  and  I  suppose  the  little 
sums  he  leaves  her  come  handy." 

Frank  seemed  lost  in  thought  for  some  seconds. 

"  Mabel,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  I  wish  you  would  help 
me  to  solve  this  matter.  I  am  sure  no  lawyer  would 
expect  to  a  get  a  divorce  for  a  woman  while  her  husband 
dwells  ever  so  little  in  the  same  apartment.  One  can't 
explain  such  things  to  a  judge.  She  must  absolutely 
refuse  to  let  him  come  there." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  eyed  him  questioningly. 

"  I'd  be  glad  to  help  you — to  help  you  both,"  said 
she,  "  if  I  had  the  money.  I  have  given  her  as  much 
as  I  could,  but  not  enough  to  support  her.  I  don't 
have  that  amount  to  spare." 

Selden  addressed  her  earnestly. 

"  You  haven't  the  money,  and  I  didn't  suppose  yon 
had.  I  didn't  mean  that.  I  meant  that  /  could  furnish 
it  myself  if  there  was  any  way  to  satisfy  her  that  the 
ought  to  take  it." 


tOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  2  4 1 

It  was  a  straw  and  Mabel  grasped  at  it.  She  wanted 
very  much  to  see  Mattie  freed  from  Algernon  Stuart. 

**  How  do  you  mean  ? "  she  asked. 

41  Couldn't  I  give  you  the  money,  and  you  let  Mattie 
— I  mean  Mrs.  Stuart — have  it,  pretending  it  was  your 
own?" 

Mabel  shook  her  head. 

"  She  knows  my  affairs  too  well.  And  beside  she 
has  had  so  much  from  me  already  that  it  troubles  her  a 
great  deal." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Frank,  positively,  "  there  is  only 
one  other  way.  I  must  hire  that  room  which  Stuart 
has  occupied  and  pay  a  liberal  price  for  it." 

The  listener  had  a  momentary  attack  of  real  fright. 
What  was  it  that  Frank  had  said  ? 

"  I  looked  the  ground  over  one  day  for  myself,"  he 
went  on  rapidly,  not  wishing  to  let  her  speak  too  soon. 
u  There  is  an  entrance  to  that  room  from  the  hallway. 
She  can  bar  the  middle  door  up  with  five-inch  plank  if  she 
chooses.  With  the  money  I  pay  her  for  that  room  she 
can  retain  her  flat  till — till  I  can  gain  the  right  through 
the  law  to  tear  the  partition  down." 

Mabel  could  not  agree  off-hand  to  this  proposition, 
and  Frank  did  not  suppose  she  would  when  he  ad- 
vanced it.  It  was  enough  for  that  day  that  she  did 
not  give  utterance  to  any  violent  opposition.  She 
simply  shook  her  head  with  the  air  of  one  who  does 
not  coincide  with  the  views  she  hears. 

"  Well,"  said  Selden,  as  they  reached  the  corner  that 
led  toward  her  residence,  "  you  know  my  views,  at  any 
rate.  I  am  ready  to  do  anything  that  is  reasonable  to 
relieve  her  of  her  present  entanglement,  and  after  that 
I  will  make  her  my  own,  if  she  will  let  me.  When  you 
think  it  over  by  yourself  you  may  find  some  better  way, 
16 


242  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

All  I  ask  is  that,  in  whatever  you  say  to  her,  you  wfl! 
not  compromise  me." 

Selden  could  hardly  wait  till  he  was  out  of  sight  be- 
fore bursting  into  a  hearty  laugh.  The  7ast  words  he 
had  spoken  to  his  cousin  appealed  to  his  sense  of 
humor  when  he  came  to  think  them  over.  Still  he  did 
care  a  great  deal  for  Mattie,  and  he  had  no  intention 
of  doing  anything  to  lose  her  the  friendship  of  Mrs. 
Fawcett.  He  was  in  constant  fear  that  Mabel  would 
learn  of  his  presence  in  that  house  and  that,  in  the  flood 
of  indignation  which  would  sweep  over  her,  she  would 
withdraw  herself  permanently  from  Mattie's  society. 

Mabel  thought  about  her  friend's  dilemma  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  night,  and  could  arrive  at  no  solution 
better  than  the  one  Frank  had  proposed.  The  more 
she  thought  about  it  the  less  revolting  it  seemed. 
Frank  had  certainly  changed  a  great  deal.  He  was 
not  the  sort  of  man  he  used  to  be.  The  plotter  ended 
by  going  to  Mrs.  Stuart  the  next  day  and  advising  her 
to  let  Mr.  Stuart's  room  to  some  one  else. 

"  But  who  would  hire  it  ?  "  asked  Mattie,  primed  for 
her  work  by  Selden 's  explanation.  "  There  are  very 
few  women  who  could  afford  to  pay  as  much  as  I  would 
have  to  ask." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Mabel.  "  But  there  are  plenty 
of  men.  You  could  board  up  that  middle  door  and 
let  them  use  the  outer  one  exclusively." 

Mattie  rose  to  inspect  the  premises  in  question  and 
her  friend  followed  her. 

"  Yes,  I  could  do  that,"  said  Mrs.  Stuart.  "  The 
next  thing,  though,  is  to  find  the  lodger." 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Selden  would  know  of  some  on«^w 
suggested  Mabel,  guardedly. 

Mrs.  Stuart  bowed  assent. 


YOUNG  PAWCSTT'S  MABEL.  243 

"  I  wffl  ask  him  to-day,"  said  Mabel ;  "  he  has  prom- 
ised to  meet  me  here  at  half-past  two." 

When  Mabel  came  at  half-past  two  she  found  Mr. 
Selden  there  before  her.  It  was  not  uncommon  now 
for  him  to  precede  her  at  these  appointments  and  her 
suspicions  were  absolutely  lulled. 

"  I've  found  a  tenant  for  my  room,"  were  the  words 
with  which  Mrs.  Stuart  greeted  her  cousin.  She  wore 
a  bright  smile  on  her  face  as  she  said  it.  "  Mr.  Selden 
says  he  will  take  it  himself." 

Although  this  was  exactly  what  Mrs.  Fawcett  ex- 
pected the  negotiations  would  come  to,  she  was  rather 
surprised  to  find  them  so  quickly  completed. 

"  I  have  been  intending  to  make  a  change  for  a  long 
time,"  explained  Frank,  "  and  that  room  suits  me  to 
perfection.  Why,  look  here."  He  led  them  into  the 
chamber.  "How  could  it  be  more  cosy?  You  will 
have  to  fire  these  traps  out  though,"  he  added,  to  Mrs. 
Stuart,  kicking  a  pair  of  his  own  shoes  under  the  bed, 
and  tossing  one  of  his  discarded  collars  into  the  closet. 

She  said  she  would  pack  them  up  and  send  them  to 
Cleveland  without  delay,  and  everybody  seemed  sud- 
denly imbued  with  a  spirit  of  joy.  Frank  would  have 
given  a  few  hundred  to  have  been  able  to  kiss  Mattie 
on  the  spot,  but  he  knew  that  would  never  do.  He 
said  he  would  move  his  things  in  before  the  evening 
was  over,  and  in  honor  of  the  event  he  persuaded  the 
ladies  to  go  out  with  him  to  a  little  lunch  at  a  nice 
cabinet  particulaire  a  short  distance  away. 

After  Selden  had  gone  through  the  pretence  of  mov- 
ing into  a  room  which  he  had  occupied  for  the  past 
five  months  Mabel  noticed  at  her  next  call  that  the 
promised  carpenter  work  had  not  been  done  on  thf 
middle  doorway. 


244  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  I've  sent  for  the  man,  but  he  is  very  busy,"  ex- 
plained Mattie.  "  There's  a  bolt  and  a  curtain  thore, 
though,  for  the  present." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  was  lost  in  thought  for  a  moment. 

"  I  don't  believe  I'd  put  anything  more  up,  Mattie,*' 
she  said.  "  He  will  know  about  it  and  it  will  look  as 
if  you  suspected  him." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  murmured  Mrs.  Stuart, 
contemplatively. 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

"WHY   DID   YOU   TELL   ME   LIES." 

ALLAN  FAWCETT  might  have  gone  on  in  the  way  he  was 
living  until  old  age^had  he  continued  to  enjoy  the  bliss 
of  ignorance.  His  life  was  neither  very  happy  nor  un- 
happy. As  far  as  business  was  concerned  it  worried  him 
less  now  that  his  transactions  were  in  the  hundred  thou- 
sands than  when  they  were  in  the  minor  figures.  He  had 
fallen  into  a  certain  fatalism  in  regard  to  profits  and 
losses.  There  seemed  little  probability  that  he  would 
ever  be  able  to  get  enough  out  of  Decker  &  Co.  to  pay 
the  debt  he  owed  Selden,  except  by  retiring  from  the 
firm ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  security  was  reckoned 
good,  and  he  could  easily  have  obtained  the  amount 
elsewhere.  Decker  had  looked  like  a  very  big  fish  to 
the  small  merchant  in  Norwood,  but  in  this  vast  mill- 
pond  of  New  York  it  was  not  much  itseif  compared 
with  the  gigantic  sharks  and  whales  whose  ravenous 
maws  were  altogether  insatiable. 

He  drew  enough  from  the  safe  to  make  him  comfort- 
able, and  saw  his  apparent  balance  go  up  and  down 
iike  a  column  of  mercury  in  a  variable  climate.  It  waa 


YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  2  45 

work,  playing  with  Cecil,  reading  and  then  bed  with 
him,  and  nothing  else.  His  wife  reckoned  for  very 
little  in  his  existence.  He  hardly  thought  it  interest- 
ing now  even  to  quarrel  with  her,  except  when  he  felt 
unusually  cross,  or  something  out  of  the  ordinary  an- 
noyed him  about  the  household  matters. 

There  are  said  to  be  something  like  three  billions  of 
people  in  this  world,  and  why  Fawcett  should  have  run 
upon  the  particular  one  of  them  who  could  arouse 
him  from  his  lethargy  and  stir  up  all  that  was  hateful 
in  him  is  a  mystery.  He  was  taking  a  journey  on  busi- 
ness connected  with  his  firm,  in  the  summer  following 
the  events  narrated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  when  he 
fell  into  conversation  with  a  man  who  occupied  the 
seat  with  him  in  the  car ;  and,  by  that  odd  sort  of  fate 
which  leads  travellers  on  common  ground,  he  happened 
to  mention  his  name  and  occupation. 

"  Well,  that's  odd ! "  said  his  companion.  "  My  wife 
is  a  cousin  of  yours.  My  name  is  Stuart." 

Fawcett  eyed  the  man  with  a  certain  surprise.  He 
had  formed  a  not  very  favorable  opinion  of  Mr.  Stuart 
although  he  had  never  seen  him  before. 

"  When  did  you  return  from  South  America  ? "  he 
asked,  in  the  most  natural  way,  for  he  had  never 
doubted  his  wife's  numerous  references  to  that  locality 
in  connection  with  Mattie's  solitary  condition. 

Mr.  Stuart  looked  oddly  at  his  questioner. 

"I  never  was  in  South  America  in  my  life,"  he 
replied. 

"  Never — in  South — America  ! "  repeated  Fawcett. 
"  You've  been  out  that  way  somewhere,  haven't  you, 
for  the  past  few  years  ? " 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of.  My  home  is  in  Cleveland 
You  must  be  thinking  of  some  other  person." 


246  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

No,  Fawcett  was  thinking  of  no  other  person.  He 
was  thinking  of  this  person,  and  wondering  who  was 
responsible  for  the  report  he  had  so  often  heard. 

"  I  had  an  idea  that  you  were  out  of  the  country,"  he 
said,  lamely.  "  Your  wife  was  at  my  house  for  a  long 
time,  you  know." 

"  And  isn't  she  there  now  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Stuart. 

Fawcett  almost  rose  from  his  seat,  in  the  extremity 
of  his  astonishment.  Didn't  this  man  know  any  more 
about  his  wife  than  that ! 

"  Why,  of  course  she  isn't ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  She 
left  us  nearly  a  year  ago." 

Mr.  Stuart  seemed  to  take  only  a  languid  interest  in 
this  disclosure. 

"  I  never  see  her  or  hear  from  her,"  he  explained. 
"  We  didn't  seem  as  well  mated  as  we  thought,  and  she 
chose  to  go  her  own  way." 

Fawcett  hated  to  exhibit  his  surprise,  but  there  was 
no  way  he  could  conceal  it. 

"  You  never  hear  from  her ! "  he  repeated,  acting  as 
if  he  could  not  credit  it.  "  You  never  write  to  her  or 
get  letters  ? " 

Stuart  shook  his  head. 

"  Never,"  he  said.  "  We  both  made  a  mistake,  and 
separation  was  the  easiest  way  out  of  it.  She  thought 
I  had  money,  and  I  supposed  her  father  was  rich. 
She  wanted  a  style  of  living  that  I  could  not  give  her. 
I  did  not  tell  her  to  go,  and  it  was  not  my  place  to  ask 
her  to  return." 

The  eyelids  of  the  commission  merchant  twitched 
spasmodically.  He  wondered  how  it  would  seem  to 
have  his  Mabel  living  somewhere  away  from  him,  with- 
out his  knowing  where,  or  what  she  was  doing.  It 
came  over  him  suddenly  how  much  he  really  loved  his 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  947 

wife,  for  the  thought  of  losing  her  made  him  faint  and 
giddy.  His  contempt  for  Stuart  increased  momentarily, 
and  he  was  glad  when  he  reached  the  station  where  he 
was  to  leave  the  train.  The  air  of  the  street  was  grate- 
ful after  breathing  the  same  atmosphere  with  such  a 
cur. 

But  the  more  he  thought  about  it  the  more  nervous 
he  grew.  If  Mrs.  Stuart  had  left  her  husband  because 
she  was  dissatisfied  with  the  income  he  allowed  her, 
how  had  she  bettered  it  ?  He  was  sure  her  father's 
estate  was  insolvent  when  he  died.  Her  mother  was 
subsisting  on  the  charity  of  another  child,  unless  he 
had  been  misinformed.  It  took  money  to  live  in  a 
world  like  this.  Whenever  he  had  seen  Mattie  he  had 
noticed  that  she  had  not  the  appearance  of  being 
poverty-stricken.  She  occupied  a  flat  and  had  food 
and  clothing,  at  somebody's  expense.  Whose  ?  It  was 
not  easy  to  connect  her  with  anything  disreputable,  but 
he  determined  to  have  this  question  answered,  and  with- 
out much  more  delay.  Mabel  associated  with  her  too 
intimately  to  have  doubts  hanging  over  so  important  a 
matter. 

That  night,  when  he  reached  home,  his  wife  was  out. 
That  was  not  strange  enough  to  startle  him.  Mollie, 
skilled  in  the  art  of  lying  from  long  experience,  told 
him  that  Cecil  had  been  put  to  bed  by  his  mother  before 
she  left  the  house,  and  that  she  had  left  word  that  she 
would  spend  the  rest  of  the  evening  at  Mrs.  Stuart's. 

Allan  went  into  the  child's  room  and  kissed  the  little 
fellow  in  his  sleep.  How  like  an  angel  he  looked,  with 
his  flaxen  hair  falling  over  his  white  forehead !  For 
half  an  hour  the  father  sat  by  the  crib,  content  with  the 
sight.  Then  he  went  into  the  parlor,  took  up  a  n«w 
magazine,  cut  the  leaves  and  tried  to  read. 


348  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Between  him  and  the  pages  there  came  a  hundred 
things  that  kept  him  from  knowing  what  was  printed 
there.  Over  the  engravings  crept  other  pictures  not  at 
all  agreeable.  Supposing  Mattie  was  not  the  kind  of 
woman  she  ought  to  be,  and  that  Mabel — too  innocent 
to  suspect  such  evil — had  been  associating  with  her  all 
this  time,  putting  her  purity  so  close  to  the  soiled  life 
of  her  companion ! 

They  had  been  the  dearest  of  friends.  If  he  found 
cause  to  suspect  anything  wrong  they  must  be  sepa- 
rated without  delay.  His  wife  would  be  slow  to  believe 
anything  against  Mattie,  and  it  might  not  be  easy  to 
prove  his  case,  even  it  the  circumstances  were  doubtful 
in  their  character.  But  he  would  investigate  the  matter 
fully.  He  would  not  run  the  risk  of  having  Mabel 
continue  to  go  about  with  a  woman  on  whom  the  least 
breath  of  suspicion  might  rest 

It  was  nearly  twelve  when  Mrs.  Fawcett  entered  the 
house.  She  came  in  noiselessly,  as  was  her  wont, 
thinking  that  if  he  had  returned  he  would  be  asleep  and 
she  must  not  disturb  him.  As  she  slipped  toward  her 
room  he  called  her. 

"  Why  do  you  creep  in  like  that  ? "  he  demanded. 
"  Have  you  been  doing  something  you  are  ashamed  of  ? " 

Now,  during  his  long  wait,  he  had  planned  to  open 
the  conversation  in  the  gentlest  and  most  diplomatic 
manner.  Her  soft  and  cat-like  steps  broln  this  resolu- 
tion and  scattered  it  to  the  winds.  Mabel  entered  the 
parlor  with  cheeks  aflame. 

"What  is  it  now?"  she  asked,  defiantly.  "Grain 
dropped  again  ? " 

He  had  been  told  a  hundred  times  that  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  coming  home  cross  whenever  the  market 
went  the  wrong  way,  and  she  c«uld  hardly  have  said 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL,  249 

anything  more  galling  to  him.  She  had,  indeed,  not 
chosen  the  expression  because  she  thought  he  would 
find  it  agreeable.  He  had  hurt  her,  and  she  took 
the  first  weapon  that  came  to  hand  to  strike  him  in 
return. 

"  No,  it's  not  grain  this  time,"  he  replied,  with  clear, 
cutting  tones.  "  It's  something  else  that's  fallen,  a 
good  deal  heavier.  Look  out  you're  not  buried  under 
it.  Why  have  you  been  telling  me  all  these  lies  about 
Mattie  Stuart  ?  " 

The  color  in  Mrs.  Fawcett's  face  left  it,  and  she 
stood  there  very  white  before  her  judge.  Where  had 
he  heard  anything  about  Mattie,  and  what  had  he 
learned  ? 

"  Has  she  had  any  letters  from  South  America  lately  ? " 
he  asked,  with  drawling  sarcasm. 

Mabel  took  a  chair.  She  was  becoming  too  weak  to 
stand. 

"  How  do  I  know  ? "  she  said.  Perhaps  by  using 
generalities  she  could  compel  him  to  reveal  the  exact 
amount  of  his  information.  "She  doesn't  tell  me 
everything  she  does." 

The  husband  paused  an  instant. 

"  Did  you  believe  Mr.  Stuart  was  out  of  this  country, 
all  this  time  ? "  he  asked.  "  Or  did  you  and  she  make 
that  story  up  together  to  deceive  me  ?  " 

Allan  knew  that  the  South  American  teles  were  false. 
This  much  was  evident.  Mabel  wanted  to  get  out  of 
the  trouble  herself  and  yet  she  dreaded  getting  Mattie 
into  it  She  could  easily  see  that  the  tendency  was 
toward  making  him  unwilling  the  women  should  con- 
tinue associates. 

"  You  say  the  Grossest  things  when  you  get  started," 
•he  answered,  knitting  her  brows.  "  What  makes  you 


250  YOUNG  FAWCETT^  S  MABEL. 

think  he  isn't  there  ?  You  would  believe  any  person 
sooner  than  your  wife." 

"  First  tell  me  what  made  you  suppose  he  was,"  said 
Fawcett.  "  You  have  talked  to  me  about  it  fifty  times, 
have  spoken  of  letters  from  him,  and  of  his  intention 
to  remain  an  indefinite  period.  If  she  has  told  you 
such  things  she  is  not  the  kind  of  woman  I  want  my 
wife  going  to  see ;  for  I  met  Mr.  Stuart  to-day,  and  he 
told  me  he  had  never  seen  South  America  or  any  other 
foreign  country,  and  that  he  had  made  his  home  in 
Cleveland  ever  since  Mattie  left  him." 

The  situation  of  the  young  wife  was  certainly  embar- 
rassing. If  Allan  absolutely  forbade  her  to  associate 
with  Mrs.  Stuart,  she  would  lose  the  pleasantest  part 
of  her  existence.  It  was  better  to  take  all  the  blame 
on  herself  than  to  have  him  get  such  a  bad  opinion  of 
Mattie.  Mabel  had  been  so  long  acquiring  the  science 
of  deceit  that  the  simple  truth  was  well-nigh  impossible 
to  her.  She  regarded  Mr.  Fawcett  as  a  man  to  circum- 
vent, to  evade,  to  blind  the  eyes  of.  His  wrath  had 
better  descend  on  her  than  on  her  friend. 

"  You  are  so  quick  and  so  unreasonable  sometimes," 
she  explained,  "  that  I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  you. 
When  Mattie  first  came  to  our  house  I  wasn't  very 
well — it  was  the  summer,  you  know,  after  Cecil  was 
born — and  it  did  me  a  great  deal  of  good  to  have  her 
there.  You  were  gone  all  day,  as  you  are  now,  and  I 
was  pining  for  some  one  to  talk  to  and  be  with.  She 
had  left  her  husband  for  good,  though  she  didn't  tell 
me  for  a  long  time,  and  I  thought  you  would  wonder 
that  he  never  came  to  see  her.  She  didn't  like  to  say 
anything  to  you  about  it — and — so — I  just  thought — \ 
would  tell  you " 

"  A  lie  I  "  said  Faw«ett,  to  finish  her  sentence. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL.  351 

The  harsh  expression  brought  the  tears  to  Mabel's 


"  Oh,  stop  blubbering  !  "  he  cried.  "  If  you  are  able 
to  tell  your  husband  as  bald  a  lie  as  that,  and  stick  to 
it  for  years,  making  up  new  ones  to  help  it  out,  you 
ought  to  stand  the  exposure  without  acting  like  a 
baby  !  " 

She  tried  her  best  to  check  the  flow,  but  it  could  not 
be  done  immediately. 

"  Allan,  you  are  awful,"  she  sobbed. 

"Why,  haven't  I  given  it  the  right  name?"  he 
asked.  "  What  do  you  call  telling  a  thing  that's  not 
so,  and  sticking  to  it  month  after  month,  with  detail 
and  circumstance  ?  You  wouldn't  say  it  was  the  truth, 
would  you  ?  And  what  isn't  the  truth  is  a  lie. 
Doesn't  sound  pretty,  does  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Fawcett  blew  her  nose  and  dug  her  hand- 
kerchief into  her  eyes. 

"  No,  it  doesn't,"  she  assented.  "  And  you  ought 
not  to  use  a  word  like  that  to  the  mother  of  your 
child." 

She  threw  Cecil  in  as  sailors  throw  oil  on  the  raging 
waves,  but  the  act  had  an  effect  opposite  to  the  one 
intended. 

"  How  can  you  bring  the  name  of  that  pure  chfld 
into  a  matter  like  this  ?  "  he  retorted.  "  Would  you 
like  him  to  know  that  his  mother  is  a  falsifier?  * 

"  I  wouldn't  like  him  to  know,"  she  sobbed,  "  that 
his  father  calls  me  everything  he  can  think  of, 
whenever  he  happens  to  come  home  cross  and  ugly." 

"  Have  I  called  you  anything  you  are  not  ?  "  said 
he,  sharply.  "  I  depend  on  your  own  admission." 

Mabel  began  to  unbutton  her  dress,  in  her  nervous* 
ness,  wanting  something  to  keep  her  fingers  busy. 


352  YOUNG  FA  WCEft'S  MABEL. 

"  I  didn't  think  it  would  do  any  harm,"  she  stam- 
mered. "  You  are  not  like  other  men ;  you  won't 
listen  to  reason.  Mattie  never  knew  what  I  told  you. 
She  was  in  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  I  was  very 
sorry  for  her." 

She  pulled  off  her  basque,  and  somehow  the  sight  of 
her  arms  and  neck  began  to  mollify  him. 

"You're  pretty  intimate  there,"  said  he.  "Will 
you  tell  me  what  she  is  living  on  ?  And  don't  say  it's 
money  from  Stuart,  for  he  never  corresponds  with  her 
in  any  way." 

Fawcett  had  touched  the  most  dangerous  part  of  the 
ground  he  was  traversing,  but  the  sight  of  the  half- 
draped  beauty  before  him  caused  a  lowering  of  his 
voice  and  a  banishing  of  the  disagreeable  element  in 
his  tone.  Quite  unconscious  of  the  cause,  Mabel  was 
fully  cognizant  of  the  effect,  and  she  lost  most  of  her 
fear.  Leaning  over  to  unlace  her  boots,  she  spoke  in 
her  usual  voice. 

"She  has  relations  who  help  her,  I  understand. 
And  then  she  lets  a  room  or  two,  which  pays  the  rent. 
She  doesn't  have  much,  just  the  barest  necessities." 

Fawcett  heard  her  vaguely.  He  was  looking  at  her 
with  the  eyes  of  a  lover.  How  sweet  and  sylph-like 
she  was  !  It  was  a  long  time  since  he  had  seen  her  so 
closely.  He  was  like  one  who  comes  upon  a  treasure 
hidden  away  in  a  forgotten  place. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  be  cross,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  Only  it  isn't  nice  to  learn  that  one's  wife  doesn't  tell 
him  the  truth.  Don't  do  it  again,  Mabel.  Let  me  know 
everything,  no  matter  what,  for  when  a  man  loses  con- 
fidence in  his  wife's  word,  it  is  a  terrible  blow." 

He  came  over  and  kissed  her,  something  he  had  not 
tor  months.  Delighted  to  have  escaped  the 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  25$ 

threatening  danger  so  easily,  she  returned  his  embrace, 
and  in  a  few  moments  they  wore  no  appearance 
of  having  been  so  recently  engaged  in  throwing 
unpleasant  expressions  at  each  other. 

As  soon  as  Allan  left  the  house  in  the  morning, 
Mabel  hastened  to  her  friend  to  tell  her  what  had 
happened.  She  had  to  ring  three  times  before  she  got 
an  answer,  and  with  her  ear  to  the  tube  she  certainly 
heard  a  door  open  and  shut  in  the  apartment.  Mattie 
explained  to  her  afterwards  that  she  had  thrown  a  few 
things  into  a  closet,  to  make  the  bedroom  look  more 
tidy. 

"  You're  a  darling  girl,  to  do  all  that  for  me,"  she 
said,  when  she  heard  the  story.  "  And  you  feel  quite 
sure  that  his  suspicions  are  completely  quieted  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  smiled  Mabel,  prettily.  "  He  was  as 
sweet  to  me  this  morning  as  one  could  ask.  Why,  it 
was  like  a  piece  of  our  honeymoon  over  again." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  TURKISH  BATH. 

ANOTHER  winter  passed,  during  which  the  most 
important  event  that  occurred  to  the  characters  in  our 
story  was  the  sudden  death  of  Mrs.  Morey.  She 
expired  at  her  sister's  house  in  Boston,  without  the 
least  warning,  there  having  been  nothing  to  indicate 
that  she  was  in  a  delicate  state  of  health.  Mrs.  Selden, 
the  invalid  to  whose  care  she  had  devoted  herself  for  the 
past  few  years,  was,  as  is  so  often  the  case,  to  outlive 
her  faithful  attendant  Mabel  mourned  her  mother 
sincerely,  and  returned  from  the  funeral  with  a  feeling 


254  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

that  Allan  and  Cecil  were  more  to  her  now  than  they 
had  ever  been.  She  spent  a  good  deal  of  her  time  as 
formerly,  with  Mrs.  Stuart,  for  it  was  lonely  at  her  own 
house  all  day  when  Allan  was  not  there,  and  in  the 
evening  it  was  his  custom  to  sit  and  read,  and  he  was 
not  much  company  for  his  wife.  He  raised  no  objec- 
tion when  she  proposed  to  "  run  over  to  Mattie's  "  for 
a  little  while,  and  generally  was  sound  asleep  when 
she  returned. 

Frank  Selden  still  devoted  considerable  of  his  time 
to  his  sweetheart,  and  Mabel  took  innumerable  lunches 
with  them,  as  well  as  attended  many  theatrical 
performances  in  their  company.  The  longer  Fawcett 
was  kept  in  ignorance  of  these  things  the  safer  they 
seemed,  and  if  he  ever  should  discover  it,  why,  what 
great  harm  could  result  ?  It  was  all  perfectly  respect- 
able, Mabel  said  to  herself.  No  one  would  be  likely 
to  accuse  Mattie  of  impropriety,  and  Frank  behaved 
nicely.  The  restaurants  were  good  ones,  and  the  plays 
entirely  proper. 

Heavens  !  What  would  have  become  of  them  all  if 
they  had  not  happened  to  get  into  this  way  of  amusing 
themselves  ?  It  was  the  salvation  of  Mattie,  keeping 
her,  as  it  did,  from  that  execrable  husband ;  it  made  the 
days  much  brighter  for  Mabel;  and  Frank  Selden, 
who  had  not,  she  feared,  always  chosen  the  best  of 
companions,  seemed  a  wholly  changed  man. 

The  lawyer  whom  he  had  consulted  told  him  that  if 
Stuart  remained  entirely  away  from  his  wife  for  another 
year  he  would  try  to  get  a  divorce  for  her  on  the 
ground  of  non-support.  Then  she  and  Frank  would 
marry,  and  everything  be  like  the  ending  of  a  child's 
•tory. 

But  the  plans  of  mice  and  men,  we  are  assured  bv 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  95$ 

the  poet,  "gang  aft  agley."  One  of  the  partners  in 
Decker  &  Co.,  in  a  thoughtless  moment,  happened  to 
remark  to  Mr.  Fawcett  that  he  had  seen  Mrs.  F.  at  the 
theatre  the  previous  evening  with  Mr.  Selden.  He  had 
no  idea  that  he  was  revealing  any  secret,  and  men- 
tioned the  circumstance  merely  in  the  way  of  ordinary 
conversation. 

"That  was  a  good  play  at  the  Union  Square  last 
night,"  he  said.  He  was  reading  a  notice  of  it  in  the 
"  Tribune,"  and  as  the  paper  was  in  front  of  his  face  he 
did  not  see  the  expression  that  crossed  Fawcett's  at  his 
next  sentence.  "  I  noticed  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  seemed 
very  much  taken  up  with  it." 

The  husband,  who  was  writing  at  his  desk,  put  down 
his  pen  abruptly.  He  wondered  why  Mabel  had  gone 
to  a  theatre  without  mentioning  the  circumstance  to 
him.  He  detested  anything  that  savored  of  slyness. 
If  she  wanted  to  see  a  play  she  knew  he  would  not  ob- 
ject. It  was  getting  to  be  too  much  of  a  habit  with 
her  to  act  in  a  secretive  way.  However,  he  did  not 
intend  to  let  Mr.  Hardy  guess  this,  and  he  replied,  in 
an  ordinary  tone,  that  his  wife  liked  the  performance 
Very  well. 

"That  Mrs.  Stuart  is  a  cousin  or  hers,  isn't  she?" 
pursued  Mr.  Hardy.  He  knew  Mattie's  face,  having 
seen  her  at  the  office  more  than  once.  "  Yes,  I  thought 
so,"  he  added,  as  Mr.  Fawcett  made  an  affirmative 
reply  "  A  very  good-looking  young  widow  she  is,  too. 
I  wonder  if  there  is  anything  definite  between  her  and 
Mr.  Selden." 

Had  the  broad  sheet  of  the  "Tribune"  been  lowered  at 
that  moment,  Mr.  Hardy  would  certainly  have  noticed 
a  very  peculiar  expression  on  the  face  of  his  partner; 
but  his  eyes  were  now  buried  in  the  financial  column, 


256  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Fawcett  knew  in  an  instant  that  Mattie's  conduct  had 
in  some  way  given  rise  to  the  insinuation  that  Mr. 
Hardy  made.  She  must  hare  acted  like  a  widow — • 
like  a  woman  free  to  marry — and  in  the  company  of 
Frank  Selden  at  that 

Allan  had  never  seen  these  two  people  together  three 
times  in  his  life.  He  had  not  known  that  they  were  on 
terms  of  the  least  intimacy.  A  great  cavity  seemed  to 
open  at  his  feet,  as  he  considered  the  simple  statement 
he  had  just  heard.  He  had  a  cue  that  he  must  follow 
up.  If  there  was  anything  like  close  friendship  be- 
tween a  man  like  Selden  and  a  woman  who  was  legally 
another's  wife,  he  would  not  have  Mabel  going  to 
visit  her  again.  To  be  found  in  Frank's  society  was 
in  itself  sufficient  to  cast  a  grave  doubt  on  the  charac- 
ter of  any  woman. 

Fawcett  tried  to  go  on  with  the  letter  he  had  begun, 
but  he  made  poor  work  of  it,  and  Mr.  Hardy,  who  had 
turned  his  paper  again  so  as  to  read  the  editorial  page, 
opened  his  mouth  once  more. 

"  I've  always  taken  Mr.  Selden  for  a  confirmed 
bachelor,"  he  said,  "  until  within  the  past  year  or  so. 
He's  got  the  reputation,  I  know,  of  being  a  pretty  gay 
boy.  The  first  time  I  saw  him  at  the  theatre  with 
Mrs.  Stuart  and  your  wife  I  was  a  little  surprised.  I 
remember  pointing  them  out  to  Mrs.  Hardy  and  remark- 
ing upon  the  matter.  Then,  when  it  continued  to  go 
on,  and  we  saw  them  so  often,  she  said — Mrs.  Hardy 
said — '  I  tell  you,  Paul,  that  couple  must  be  engaged.' 
We  go  to  the  theatre  a  good  deal,  you  know,  and  after- 
wards to  some  restaurant — just  as  we  did  before  we 
were  married — and  seeing  them  frequently  at  both 
places  made  us  a  little  inquisitive.  I  promised  to  ask 
you  a  long  time  ago,  but  somehow  I  forgot  it.  Mrs, 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  357 

Hardy  said  it  must  be  something  of  the  kind,  for  as 
Mrs.  Fawcett  is  always  along,  like  a  sort  of  chaperon 
for  her  friend,  there  couldn't  be  any — 

"  By  George,  he's  gone  !  " 

The  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  a  lowering  of 
the  newspaper  and  a  discovery  that  Mr.  Fawcett  had 
left  the  room.  Mr.  Hardy  indulged  in  a  quiet  laugh  at 
his  own  expense,  supposing  that  his  partner  had  been 
called  away  by  some  pressing  emergency  in  the  pause 
between  the  joints  of  his  harangue. 

Fawcett  had  picked  up  his  hat  and  coat  and  walked 
out  of  doors  without  taking  the  trouble  to  announce 
his  departure  to  any  one.  He  was  as  near  insane  at 
that  moment  as  a  man  could  well  be  and  know  the  way 
to  Forty-second  Street.  He  met  people  of  his  acquaint- 
ance and  passed  without  responding  to  their  bows  or 
greetings.  He  did  not  take  any  kind  of  conveyance, 
but  walked  on  and  on,  neither  seeing  nor  hearing  any 
of  the  sights  or  sounds  of  the  teeming  city.  He  did 
not  know  what  he  intended  to  do  when  he  got  to  the 
end  of  his  journey.  He  had  a  dim  idea  that  he  ought 
to  be  at  his  domicile— that  there  was  danger  to  be  met 
there.  It  was  something  as  if  he  had  heard  that  a 
fire  had  caught  between  the  floorings,  and  might 
envelop  the  entire  edifice  unless  attended  to  with 
promptness. 

It  is  a  long  walk  from  the  vicinity  of  Park  Place  to 
Forty-second  Street  and  before  Fawcett  had  accom- 
plished half  of  it  his  mind  grew  slightly  clearer.  Dis- 
grace— that  was  it !  He  knew  Frank  Selden  thoroughly. 
If  that  fellow  had  been  going  about  with  Mattie  Stuart 
he  could  have  had  but  one  purpose  in  view.  If  he  had 
been  going  with  her,  as  Mr.  Hardy  testified,  for  a  year 
or  more,  he  had  accomplished  his  intent  long,  very  long, 


1 58  YOUNG  FA  WCETTS  MABEL. 

ago.  And  Mabel — his  Mabel — had  gone  to  places  of 
amusement  with  them,  to  theatres  and  restaurants,  seen 
by  a  thousand  people  as  well  as  one,  piling  the  shame 
upon  his  head !  Secretive,  sly,  hiding  her  acts  from 
him  in  that  lizard-like  way  she  had  fostered  of  late,  she 
had  assisted  this  notorious  rout  in  his  liaison  I  And 
her  husband  had  gone  on,  suspecting  nothing,  playing 
with  his  innocent  child,  reading  his  books  and  maga- 
zines, and  going  to  bed  with  the  wife  still  out  of  the 
house ! 

Oh,  it  was  beautiful !  Men  were  in  the  Tombs  await- 
ing trial  for  murder  who  had  not  half  this  provocation ! 

He  would  see  Mabel,  and  then  he  would  see  Frank 
Selden.  If  the  wealthy  young  rake  gave  him  one 
insolent  word  he  would  break  every  bone  in  his  face. 
Damn  him  and  his  money !  To  take  an  innocent 
woman  like  Mabel  and  drag  her  around  with  him 
and  his  paramour  where  fools  might  suspect  even  her 
immaculate  purity — it  was  fearful !  The  lovers  must 
have  been  very  shrewd  not  to  arouse  the  least  glimmer 
of  the  truth  in  her  mind.  They  must— they  must — 
they — must 

Fawcett  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  street.  A 
horrible  thing  had  crept  into  his  brain.  He  saw  the 
shadow  of  a  black  and  slimy  apparition  across  his  own 
threshold! 

How  was  he  to  say  which  of  these  two  women  was  de- 
tcived  and  which  was  the  guilty  one  HI 

A  voice  at  his  elbow  inquired  if  he  were  ill.  He 
saw  that  quite  a  number  of  people  had  stopped  to  look 
at  him.  In  a  crowded  city  it  takes  but  a  minute  to 
make  a  street  impassable.  Fawcett  nerved  himself  to 
reply  that  nothing  was  the  matter,  and  turned  the 
corner,  which  was  that  of  Broadway  and  Twenty-Fifth 


YOUNG  FA  WC ETTS  MABBL.  9& 

Street.    He  could  not  go  home  now.    If  he  were  to 
enter  his  house  at  this  time  no  one  could  say  what 

might  ensue. 

There  were  stairs  at  his  side  that  led  into  a  basement 
and  he  saw  the  words  "  Turkish  Bath  "  staring  at  him. 
Descending  the  steps  he  registered  his  name,  took  a 
ticket  and  entered  a  disrobing-room.  This  place  was 
as  good  as  another  for  the  present.  It  would  give  him 
time  to  think. 

In  a  few  moments  he  was  seated  in  the  hot  room. 
There  were  other  men  there,  but  he  did  not  know  them. 
He  tried  to  reason  intelligently,  but  he  could  not. 
Whichever  theory  he  must  accept,  it  was  not  a  sweet 
morsel  to  swallow.  In  either  case  could  he  ever 
respect  Mabel  again.  If  it  was  she  who  had  been  im- 
posed upon,  she  was  too  simple  to  make  a  safe  wife  for 
any  man.  If  she  had  been  the  cunning  one — and 
Mattie  had  been  blinded — that  would  settle  it  all,  of 
course.  If  they  had  acted  as  covers  for  each  other— * 
both  guilty — that  would  be  quite  the  same.  Could 
either  of  them  know  so  little  of  the  world  as  to  be 
swindled  in  such  a  manner?  It  did  not  seem  possible. 
And  the  master-thought  came  and  crowded  out  the 
rest :  If  Mabel  was  the  mistress  of  Frank  Selden  what 
ought  he — Allan  Fawcett — to  do  ? 

How  could  he  blame  such  a  man  for  availing  himself 
of  that  opportunity,  if  it  came  in  his  way.  If  a  pretty 
wife  chose  to  violate  her  marriage-vows  was  it  to  be 
expected  a  libertine  would  advise  her  to  the  contrary  ? 
It  was  certainly  Mabel  on  whom  the  blame  should  fall. 

Ought  he  to  go  home  and  kill  her  ? 

No,  he  would  be  hanged  if  he  did  !  He  would  wait 
till  he  felt  sure  he  was  cool  enough  to  dismiss  her  with 
•nly  the  few  words  that  his  righteous  indignation 


«6o  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

dictated.  He  would  tell  her  to  go  to  the  devil — to  seek 
the  class  of  women  to  which  she  belonged — and  then 
he  would  take  Cecil  away  with  him  and  try  to  forget 
the  unworthy  mother.  That  was  the  way  for  a  sensible 
man  to  act.  Murder  was  obsolete  in  such  cases,  except 
among  the  contadini  of  Sicily  or  the  drunken  negroes 
of  Texas.  He  would  not  let  Mabel  add  anything  to 
the  injury  she  had  already  done  him,  and  he  had  no 
relish  for  a  term  behind  the  thick  walls  of  a  jail.  He 
would  wait,  wait, — till  he  was  perfectly  certain  he  could 
control  his  temper,  and  could  meet  her  as  she  ought  to 
be  met. 

The  shampooer  came  to  take  him  into  the  rubbing 
room.  Stretched  on  the  marble  slab,  with  the  heavy 
hands  of  the  attendant  manipulating  his  flesh,  Fawcett 
said  to  himself  a  hundred  times  that  this  was  what  he 
would  do.  He  had  got  to  thinking  of  only  one  possi- 
bility out  of  the  three  which  he  had  at  first  taken  up. 
Mabel  must  be  Selden's  inamorata.  Mattie  had  only 
acted  as  a  blind  for  them,  a  knowing  one  he  had  no 
doubt  whatever.  Her  flat  had  been  their  convenient 
place  of  meeting.  Mabel  had  begun  this  when  she 
told  him  the  falsehood  about  Algy  Stuart's  going  to 
South  America.  How  had  he  been  fooled  so  long? 
He  should  have  known  that  a  wife  who  could  calmly  lie 
to  her  husband  was  capable  of  yet  greater  dishonor. 

"  Please  turn  over,  sir,"   said  the  bathman. 

Well,  she  would  see  before  she  died  what  became  of 
such  wives.  Her  path  would  descend  easily  into  the 
slums,  for  her  wealthy  lover  would  tire  of  her  as  soon 
as  her  charms  began  to  fade.  Fawcett  recalled  Sel- 
den's expressions,  long  before : 

"  I  could  take  her  and  love  her  for  weeks,  perhaps 
for  months.  She  may  grow  ill-tempered ;  she  will  cer- 


YOUNG  FAWCETrS  MABEL.  261 

tainly  grow  old ;  her  hair  will  turn  gray ;  her  rounded 
curves  will  disappear ;  on  her  dimpled  face  wrinkles 
will  come.  Marriage  !  The  very  word  disgusts  me  ! " 

And  after  that,  what  was  the  next  step  ?  Downward, 
always  downward !  A  few  years  of  misery,  and  then  a 
frightful  death.  In  that  day  she  would  know  that  her 
husband,  hard  as  was  his  lot,  had  not  the  worst  of  this 
bargain  to  which  she  had  forced  him.  He  would  still 
be  a  reputable  citizen,  regarded  with  honor  by  his  fel- 
low-men, when  the  wagon  that  bore  her  remains  took 
its  way  with  galloping  horses  to  the  Potter's  Field! 

"  Now,  if  you  will  stand  up,  sir." 

The  attendant  placed  him  under  the  shower-bath, 
which  was  much  colder  than  he  usually  wanted  it,  but 
to-day  he  never  gave  the  matter  a  thought.  His  mind 
was  too  excited  for  him  to  know  much  about  temper- 
atures. The  man  rubbed  him  down  and  dried  every 
drop  of  moisture  from  his  skin.  Then  he  was  shown 
to  a  couch,  where  he  lay  for  an  hour,  until  some  one 
suggested  that  it  was  time  to  dress. 

When  he  got  out  on  the  street  again  he  felt  much 
better.  He  looked  at  his  watch  and  saw  that  it  was 
noon.  Should  he  go  home  now  ?  No,  he  was  not  yet 
quite  calm  enough.  He  had  resolved  not  to  enter  his 
house  until  he  could  speak  to  Mabel  as  dispassionately 
as  a  judge  on  the  bench.  So  he  took  a  long  walk  over 
Twenty-third  Street  to  the  river  and  up  a  lettered 
avenue  and  down  again.  After  that  he  went  into  a 
theatre  and  passed  three  hours;  and  then,  feeling 
slightly  faint,  he  got  a  lunch  at  a  restaurant. 

It  was  now  past  six,  and  he  walked  slowly  in  the 
direction  of  his  home.  His  home !  Never  could  it  be 
his  home  again  !  How  happy  he  had  been  there,  and 
now — it  was  all  ended. 


962  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL, 

The  pain  of  this  reflection  warned  him  that  he  was 
not  yet  in  a  condition  to  confront  his  wife.  He  strolled 
up  Madison  Avenue  and  beyond,  till  he  saw  the  Harlem 
River  in  front  of  him.  Then  he  strolled  back  again, 
through  other  streets.  At  last  he  entered  his  dwelling 

Unless  things  were  very  different  from  usual,  Mabel 
would  not  be  at  home  at  that  hour.  (It  was  ten  o'clock.) 
He  would  go  up  and  wait  for  her  and  talk  to  her  in  an 
ordinary  voice  when  she  came  back.  Then  he  would 
pack  the  things  he  wanted  and  take  them  away  with 
Cecil  that  very  night.  Yes,  that  was  what  he  would  da 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"I  KNOW   YOU   HAVE   BEEN   TRUE." 

HE  went  in  without  much  noise,  for  he  did  not  care 
to  meet  the  servant  if  he  could  avoid  it.  The  parlor 
was  empty,  as  he  turned  up  the  low  gas-jet  in  the 
chandelier.  He  would  go  in  a  minute  to  see  Cecil — 
poor,  motherless,  worse  than  motherless  boy !  He 
uttered  a  sob  that  no  amount  of  resistance  could  quite 
choke  down,  and  immediately  there  came  a  low  voice 
from  the  chamber  beyond. 

"  Is  that  you,  Allan  ?  " 

It  was  Mabel.  She  was  in  bed.  When  he  reached 
her  door  Fawcett  saw  by  the  bright  light  burning  there 
that  she  had  a  very  white  face — and  was  undoubtedly 
ill. 

"  I'm  so  glad  you've  come,"  she  whispered.  "  I've 
been  terribly  sick  all  day.  Mattie  stayed  quite 
late  with  me,  and  Mollie  did  all  she  could,  but  there 
was  no  use  in  their  sitting  up.  Oh,  Allan,  have  I  got 
to  go  through  all  that  again  \ n 


YOUNG  FA  WC ETrS  MABEL.  163 

She  had  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  when  he  en. 
tered  and  she  did  not  remove  it.  She  was  crying  in  a 
subdued  key,  so  utterly  wretched  that  she  would  not 
have  believed  that  anything  could  add  to  her  distress. 

Similes  fail  when  one  tries  to  describe  the  anguish 
that  racked  the  unhappy  husband.  The  idolatry  which 
he  had  for  his  offspring ;  the  sanctity  that  surrounded 
motherhood  in  his  estimation ;  all  this  was  met  in  its 
path  through  the  waters  by  the  gigantic  iceberg  of 
doubt !  If  his  wife  was  faithful  he  could  fall  on  his 
knees  and  worship  her.  If  she  was  untrue  the  revela- 
tion she  had  given  only  made  her  more  infamous  in 
his  sight. 

There  was  a  collision  that  nearly  wrecked  the  frail 
craft,  but  the  ship  still  floated  on  the  crest  of  the 
waves.  He  wanted  so  dearly  to  believe  in  her  that  he 
was  willing  to  catch  at  any  hope.  But  he  must  have 
that  awful  question  settled,  and  at  once.  He  could  not 
postpone  it  for  an  hour. 

"  You  were  at  the  theatre  last  night,"  was  the  only 
answer  he  made  her. 

She  paused  in  her  sobs  behind  the  handkerchief  and 
stole  a  furtive  look  at  him.  Her  heart  sank  when  she 
saw  his  face. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  softly. 

"  With  Frank  Selden." 

"  I  went  with  Mattie.  And  Frank — we  happened  to 
meet  him,  and  he  came  along." 

Mr.  Fawcett  caught  his  breath. 

"  Once  in  your  life,  Mabel,  try  to  speak  the  truth," 
he  answered,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  know  it  is  not  easy  for 
you,  but  do  the  best  you  can.  You  see  I  know  all  about 
it.  It  is  not  only  last  night,  that  you  have  been  with 
Selden  but  fifty  other  nights.  You  have  been  with 


264  YOUNG  FAVTCETTS  MABEL. 

him  to  the  theatre,  to  restaurants,  and  you  know  as 
well  as  I  where  else.  I  found  it  out  to-day.  Now,  I  am 
going  to  pack  my  things  and  get  out  of  this  house  to- 
night with  my  child.  That  will  leave  you  free  to  go 
to  him — with  his  I" 

Mabel  Fawcett  took  the  handkerchief  from  her  eyes 
and  sat  up  in  the  bed.  For  a  moment  she  put  both 
her  hands  to  her  temples  with  the  action  of  one  partly 
stunned.  Then  she  got  her  feet  on  the  floor  and  strode 
toward  her  husband. 

"  How  do  you  dare  speak  like  that  to  me  ? "  sha 
cried,  with  the  utmost  ferocity. 

The  astonished  man  saw  a  heavy  bronze  lamp  seized 
from  a  table  and  swung  above  his  head.  He  knew 
that  his  life  was  not  worth  a  penny  should  it  descend. 
It  was  not  a  pleasant  position,  to  be  placed  on  the  de- 
fensive physically  before  this  slender  figure  in  its  night- 
robes.  But  there  was  a  greater  thing  than  this  in  that 
pose  of  hers.  There  was  every  sign  of  outraged  inno- 
cence. 

"Explain  to  me,  then,"  he  answered,  "what  you 
have  been  doing  in  his  company.  Why  have  you  been 
to  theatres  and  to  suppers  with  him,  night  after  night, 
and  never  mentioned  a  word  of  it  to  me  ? " 

Mabel  went  slowly  back  to  the  bed,  and  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  it.  She  still  kept  a  grasp  on  the  weapon 
she  had  taken,  though  she  let  its  weight  rest  again  on 
the  table.  Her  gray  eyes  were  like  coals  and  her 
nostrils  were  red  as  blood.  A  tremor  ran  over  her 
frame,  but  her  voice  was  firm. 

"What  have  I  been  doing?"  she  replied,  loftily. 
"  I  have  been  going  to  places  of  amusement.  Why 
have  I  gone  with  Mr.  Selden  and  Mattie  ?  Because 
you  never  have  asked  me  to  go  with  you  !  Why  have 


YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  165 

I  not  told  you  ?  Because  I  do  not  consider  it  any  of 
)rour  business !  They  are  respectable  people  and  we 
have  all  behaved  ourselves.  You  say  you  have  made 
some  great  discoveries.  Kindly  tell  me  what  they  are. 
But,  be  careful,  Allan  Fawcett  !  "  She  raised  the  lamp 
again  from  the  table.  "  It  is  not  necessary  that  you 
should  add  inventions  of  your  own." 

He  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  Put  that  thing  down,"  he  said,  shortly.  "  YOB 
don't  intend  to  break  my  skull  with  it,  and  you  may  as 
well  let  it  alone." 

She  smiled  satirically. 

"Don't  I?"  she  echoed.  "I  would  break  the 
skull  of  any  man  who  would  offer  such  an  insult  to  ma 
as  you  did  a  moment  ago,  and  refuse  to  take  it  back. 
What  gives  you  a  right  to  outrage  my  feelings  ?  All 
the  privileges  your  marriage  brought  you  have  been 
kept  sacred,  but  they  do  not  include  such  conduct  as 
you  have  been  guilty  of  this  night !  " 

He  had  not  been  in  her  presence  five  minutes,  but 
he  believed  that,  whatever  she  had  done,  she  was  yet 
chaste.  He  believed  that  her  unborn  babe  was  his 
untainted  child.  He  was  impatient  with  her  for  the 
long  deceit  she  had  practiced,  for  the  risks  she  had  run 
of  her  good  name,  for  her  reckless  association  with  a 
man  of  Frank  Selden's  stamp.  These  things  he  meant 
to  tell  her  in  the  future,  but  the  load  that  had  been 
removed  from  his  mind  made  them  seem  of  compara- 
tively little  moment. 

"  Very  well,  Mabel,"  he  said,  in  a  mollified  tone. 
"  I  take  back  what  I  insinuated  about  you.  You  hav» 
been  frightfully  careless  and  you  have  done  your  repu- 
tation an  irreparable  injury,  but  I  am  only  too  glad  to 
think  you  personally  pure.  Now  it  is  your  plain  duty 


*66        Y9UNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

to  tell  me  the  whole  story,  as  there  is  certainly  gnih 
somewhere.  If  it  is  not  yours,  it  is  Mattie  Stuart's. 
Frank  Selden  is  a  libertine  without  the  least  con- 
science. I  assure  you  I  know  him  thoroughly.  If  he 
has  not  been  spending  the  past  year  seeking  to  ruin 
you  it  is  because  he  has  found  another  victim.  Let  us 
have  no  more  evasions.  I  want  the  whole  truth." 

But  even  then  she  had  no  idea  of  giving  it  to  him. 
She  did  not  realize  the  dreadful  condition  in  which 
things  had  been  but  a  moment  earlier — in  which  they 
still  were  and  would  be  until  his  mind  was  set  at  rest. 

"  You  want  too  much  !  "  she  retorted.  "  You  had 
better  go  to  them  and  try  to  get  the  facts  in  the  same 
way  you  tried  with  me — beginning  with  an  insult.  I 
consider  Frank  Selden  a  gentleman  and  Mattie  Stuart 
a  lady.  I  have  accompanied  them  to  several  places  and 
he  has  always  acted  with  the  utmost  courtesy.  There 
is  simply  nothing  to  cause  all  this  rage  on  your  part. 
You  have  said  things  to  me  to-night  that  I  can  never 
forgive.  I  have  borne  you  one  child,  but  I  will  not 
bear  you  another.  No,  as  true  as  my  name  is " 

The  horrified  man  caught  her  and  stopped  her  words 
with  his  hands. 

"  Are  you  insane  ? "  he  gasped. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  replied,  firmly,  as  soon  as  he 
would  let  her  speak,  "  that  I  am  going  to  bear  children 
when  you  question  their  legitimacy  ? " 

He  seemed  choking  as  he  heard  her. 

"  I  don't  question  it ! "  he  exclaimed  "  I  know  you 
have  been  true  to  me  !  I  was  mad  when  I  said  any- 
thing else.  But  I  am  equally  sure  that  you  are  de- 
ceived in  relation  to  Frank  and  Mattie.  How  would 
you  like  to  learn  that  they  had  been  using  you  as  a 
cover  for  nef ariousness  ?  You  owe  it  to  me,  and  to 


Y9UNG  FA  WCR TT'S  MABEL.  287 

your  child — and  to  your  dead  mother — to  have  this 
thing  probed  to  the  bottom." 

The  mention  of  her  mother  was  the  one  thing  that 
could  have  moved  Mrs.  Fawcett.  She  broke  down 
completely  and  burst  into  tears. 

"If  we  find  that  there  is  good  cause  to  suspect 
them,"  said  Allan,  gently,  "  you  will  consent  to  give 
Mattie  up,  won't  you  ?  That  is  all  I  ask." 

"  Oh,  you  never  will  find  that !  "  she  sobbed.  "  You 
don't  know  her  as  I  do.  But  it's  no  wonder  you  talk 
of  others  after  what  you  said  of  your  own  wife." 

"  Don't  allude  to  that  again,"  he  begged.  "  I  take 
you  at  your  word,  but  Frank  Selden  is  too  deep  a 
schemer  for  your  innocent  head.  He  knew,  if  you  did 
not,  that  it  would  subject  you  to  suspicion  for  him  to  be 
seen  at  restaurants  with  you,  and  your  husband  never 
there,  but  he  cares  for  nothing  except  his  own  pleasure." 

Mabel  was  thinking  of  her  mother.  Perhaps  she 
had  not  been  entirely  right  in  this  business.  She 
would  never  go  out  with  Selden  in  the  party  again,  that 
was  certain.  It  was  easier  to  make  this  resolve,  how- 
ever, than  to  tell  it  to  her  husband.  She  shrank  from  ap- 
pearing like  a  punished  child  who  had  to  promise  not 
to  repeat  its  fault. 

"  Mattie  is  not  a  bad  woman,"  she  articulated.  "  I 
could  swear  it.  She  has  a  good-for-nothing  husband, 
and  she  means  to  get  a  divorce  from  him.  Mr.  Selden 
likes  her,  and  when  she  is  free  he  will  marry  her. 
That's  all  there  is  to  it.  He  has  been  very  kind  to 
her — to  us  both.  If  it  makes  talk,  of  course  I  won't 
go  out  with  him,  but  I  don't  see  how  it  can,  when  he  is 
my  own  cousin.  And  if  I  don't  go,  Mattie  can't  go, 
either ;  and  perhaps  it  will  break  it  all  up." 

She  looked  so  doleful  that  he  could  not  help  tru* 


*68  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

Ing  her  word  to  the  full,  but  he  did  not  believe  in  hef 
theory  of  Selden's  alleged  intentions.  Frank  marry? 
Never.  He  either  had  or  hoped  to  gain  Algy  Stuart's 
place  in  a  simpler  way. 

It  was  two  hours  Later  before  the  Fawcetts  finished 
talking.  Finally  they  went  to  bed  under  a  patched-up 
truce,  a  sort  of  modus  vivcndi  that  would  do  for  the 
present,  at  least.  It  had  been  a  hard  time  for  them 
both,  but  the  failure  of  Mabel  to  tell  the  important  fact 
that  Selden  hired  a  room  of  Mrs.  Stuart  left  the  door 
open  for  another  similar  affair. 

When  Selden  learned,  some  days  later,  that  Mrs. 
Fawcett  could  not  go  out  with  him  and  Mattie  again 
he  lost  his  temper. 

"  Give  my  regards  to  Allan,"  he  said  to  her,  "  and  ask 
him  if  he  has  heard  from  Sadie  lately.  He  won't  need 
the  other  name — Mil  understand.  Just  ask  him  whe| 
he  last  heard  from  Sadie" 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 
"WHAT  MADE  YOU  MARRY  MAMMA?*' 

FAWCETT  had  been  feeling  very  tender  toward  b*s 
wife  during  the  past  few  days.  The  reaction  that  had 
followed  the  terrible  misunderstanding  had  had  its 
natural  consequence.  He  thought  many  hours  together 
of  the  awful  suspicions  that  momentarily  clouded  his 
mind — of  the  great  gulf  that  had  arisen  between  him 
and  Mabel,  and  of  the  happy  sweeping  away  of  the 
object  of  his  terror.  She  had  been  foolish  to  allow  a 
man  like  Frank  Selden  to  impose  upon  her,  but  her  own 
conduct  had  been  undoubtedly  pure.  As  for  Mrs. 
Stuart,  she  might  or  might  not  be  a  virtuous  woman  • 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  26$ 

she  had  no  business,  with  a  husband  living,  to  act  in 
such  a  way  as  to  lead  people  to  suppose  her  single. 

Allan  determined  to  gradually  lead  Mabel  away  from 
her  friend,  feeling  that  Mattie  was  not  the  best  com- 
panion for  so  artless  a  girl  as  he  still  believed  his  wife 
to  be,  notwithstanding  the  falsehood  in  which  he  had 
detected  her.  He  thought  he  could  manage,  by  taking 
her  to  places  of  entertainment  himself,  and  by  asking 
her  to  remain  in  the  house  evenings,  to  wean  her  from 
Mrs.  Stuart  without  creating  ill-feeling.  He  had  about 
as  lief  take  a  whipping  as  to  go  to  the  average  theatre, 
having  become  attached  to  the  quiet  of  his  parlor  after 
the  fatigues  of  the  day,  but  he  endured  several  evenings 
at  the  play  so  that  Mabel  might  be  satisfied.  On  the 
odd  nights  he  sat  and  talked  with  her,  though  he  would 
have  enjoyed  much  more  the  reading  of  a  newspaper  or 
book.  He  was  willing  to  sacrifice  a  little  to  make  her 
future  conduct  surer. 

Another  thing  Mr.  Fawcett  did,  and  this  on  the  very 
day  after  he  had  the  interview  with  his  wife  detailed  in 
the  preceding  chapter.  He  went  to  a  professional  money- 
lender to  borrow  the  sum  which  he  owed  Selden. 
When  he  obtained  it,  he  engaged  an  attorney  to  pay 
the  amount  and  secure  the  note  that  Frank  held,  so 
that  he  would  not  have  to  meet  the  obnoxious  indi- 
vidual, toward  whom  he  now  had  only  the  bitterest 
sentiments.  One  evening  Allan  came  home  with  a 
light  heart,  to  show  Mabel  that  he  and  Selden  were  no 
longer  in  business  relations  with  each  other. 

It  was  the  very  day  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  had  summoned 
courage  to  tell  Mr,  Selden  that  her  husband  objected 
to  having  her  seen  in  his  society,  and  on  which  he  had 
given  that  sententious  and  to  her  astonishing  reply. 

"  Ask  him  if  he  has  heard  from  Sadie.    He'll  under- 


270 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 


It  did  not  need  the  sarcastic  laugh  with  which  Frank 
uttered  these  words  to  distress  the  young  wife  to  the 
utmost.  She  had  never  had  an  instant's  jealousy  of 
Allan  since  her  marriage,  and  the  thought  that  there 
could  be  another  woman  in  the  case  was  enough  to 
send  the  blood  out  of  her  cheeks  in  a  wave. 

"  What — do — you — mean  ?  "  she  stammered,  faintly. 

"  Ask  him,"  retorted  Selden.  "  He  thinks  I  am  not 
good  enough  to  associate  with  you.  Make  him  tell  you 
a  chapter  from  his  own  experience." 

Mrs.  Stuart,  who  had  long  ago  heard  the  story  of 
Mr.  Fawcett's  relations  with  the  Boston  woman,  wore 
a  look  of  the  greatest  consternation.  She  would  have 
given  anything  could  she  have  spared  Mabel  this  pain. 

"  He  doesn't  mean  anything,"  she  exclaimed,  at  the 
same  time  darting  a  glance  of  entreaty  at  her  lover. 
"  What  is  the  use  of  making  things  any  worse  than  they 
are  ?  Tell  her  you  were  only  joking,"  she  added,  to 
Selden,  enforcing  the  request  by  facial  telegraphy. 
"  Don't  you  see  how  seriously  she  is  taking  it  ?  " 

But  Selden  absolutely  refused  to  be  placated.  He 
was  in  an  ugly  temper.  His  money  had  been  repaid 
to  him  that  morning  through  a  third  party,  indicating 
the  state  of  Fawcett's  feelings  towards  him,  and  he  had 
been  growing  angrier  all  day. 

"  Let  me  tell  my  own  stories,"  he  said  firmly.  K  I 
do  mean  something.  If  Mrs.  Fawcett  asks  her  husband 
and  he  refuses  to  tell  her,  she  can  come  back  to  me 
and  I  promise  to  give  her  the  information.  He  must 
have  been  disagreeable  enough  to  her  when  he  attacked 
us.  All  I  want  him  to  remember  is  the  old  adage,  that 
people  who  live  in  glass  houses  should  not  throw 
stones." 

Mrs.  Stuart  was  in  despair.     Her  well-meant  scheme 


YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL.  3J I 

had  failed  and  she  feared  to  make  another  attempt  lest 
she  should  exasperate  him  to  say  even  more. 

"  I  don't  believe  my  husband  lives  in  that  kind  of  a 
glass  house  !  "  said  Mabel,  with  rising  indignation.  "  I 
understand  what  you  intimate,  and  I  know  he  is  not 
that  kind  of  a  man." 

It  was  a  very  pretty  sight,  Selden  thought — this 
little  wife,  smarting  under  the  lash  herself,  defending 
the  honor  of  the  man  who  had  administered  the  blow. 

"  Throw  the  stone  and  see,"  he  smiled  grimly. 
"Ask  him  when  he  heard  from  Sadie.  Make  him 
think  you  know,  and  he  will  let  out  the  whole  truth, 
I'll  wager.  Say  you  mean  Sadie  Reeder,  of  Boston. 
That  will  be  enough.  He'll  fall  into  the  trap.  And  if 
he  doesn't,  I'll  keep  my  word.  If  there-  is  anything 
you  don't  find  out  from  him  I'll  tell  it  to  you.  You 
needn't  take  my  word  alone,  either.  There  are  plenty 
to  corroborate  me." 

So  when  Mr.  Allan  Fawcett  came  whistling  into  his 
apartment  that  evening,  and  with  a  happy  smile,  shook 
the  note  he  had  obtained  from  Selden  in  his  wife's 
face,  she  responded  by  propounding  to  him  that  un- 
pleasant query. 

She  had  thought,  for  an  hour  after  she  reached 
home,  that  she  would  ignore  the  whole  matter.  Frank 
was  angry  at  Allan  and  in  a  mood  to  invent  tales  or  to 
magnify  any  little  affair  that  had  occurred.  Mabel 
hated  to  hear  things  to  her  husband's  discredit.  She 
had  almost  rather  be  kept  in  ignorance  than  learn  that 
he  had  done  anything  very  wrong.  But  when  she  got 
home  the  poison  began  to  penetrate  her  veins. 

"Sadie!" 

She  could  think  of  nothing  but  that  disagreeable 
word.  Who  could  its  owner  be  ?  There  must  be  some- 


j; 2  YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

thing  to  it,  for  Frank  had  told  her  to  try  the  effect  of 
those  magic  syllables  on  her  husband,  and  he  would 
not  have  done  that  unless  he  believed  their  sound 
would  awaken  unpleasant  memories. 

Could  there  be,  at  this  present  moment,  some  woman 
with  whom  Allan  shared  his  embraces  ?  No !  Im- 
possible !  He  was  always  at  home  in  the  evening,  and 
his  days  were  taken  up  with  the  business  of  Decker  & 
Co.  But  it  was  evident  that  there  was,  or  had  been 
at  some  time,  a  "Sadie."  What  a  disgusting  name! 
Mabel  knew  she  should  hate  any  one  bearing  that  dis- 
agreeable cognomen.  "  Sadie,  Sadie  !  "  She  must, 
she  would,  ask  Allan  the  meaning  of  this  unpleasant 
riddle. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  in  reference  to  the  note  which  he 
showed  her.  "  I'm  glad  you've  got  it  again.  And  now 
I  want  you  to  tell  me,"  her  voice  trembled  as  she 
reached  the  question,  "  if  you  know  any  woman  by — 
the  name — of — Sadie." 

They  were  equally  pale  as  she  finished  the  sentence. 

"  Frank  Selden  told  you  to  ask  me ! "  replied  Faw- 
cett,  hoarsely. 

"  That  statement  is  not  an  answer,"  she  replied,  in  a 
low  voice. 

A  dangerous  look  came  into  the  husband's  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  a  fellow  of  that  description  ? " 
he  muttered.  "  After  trying  his  best  to  cast  reflections 
on  the  character  of  my  wife,  by  making  the  public  be- 
lieve it  is  she  who  attracts  him  to  theatres  and 
restaurants  without  her  husband's  knowledge,  he  wants 
to  make  trouble  between  you  and  me.  I've  tried  to 
keep  from  giving  him  a  piece  of  my  mind,  but  I  shall 
do  it  now.  If  he  meddles  with  my  affairs  again,  he'll 
be  sorry,  that's  all  I  " 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  373 

Mabel  sat  opposite  to  him  in  a  chair  which  seemed 
much  too  large  for  her. 

"  Now,  will  you  tell  me  what  I  asked  you  ?  "  she  said 
persistently. 

He  started,  and  a  wild  look  came  into  his  face. 

"  Why,  there's  not  much  to  tell,"  he  replied.  "  I 
presume  he  has  made  it  out  already  as  bad  as  he  could." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  He  has  told  me  nothing — yet.  But  he  says  he  will, 
if  you  refuse." 

Fawcett  looked  very  ugly  as  he  heard  this  statement 

«  Very  well,  then,  let  him,"  said  he.  "  If  it  has  got 
to  the  point  that  you  go  to  <tfher  men — and  to  such  men 
— to  get  information  about  your  husband,  why,  keep 
on.  We'll  see  how  you  come  out." 

It  was  the  old  kind  of  quarrel.  Neither  had  any 
patience,  neither  was  ready  to  put  into  the  scale  that 
slight  portion  of  love  that  would  have  tipped  the  beam 
the  right  way.  After  a  little  more  talk  of  the  same 
kind,  Fawcett  refused  to  say  another  word.  The  lan- 
guage of  both  had  grown  very  warm  and  their  tones  were 
high  enough  to  be  heard  in  the  kitchen,  but  they  gave 
no  thought  to  that.  Mollie  was  no  stranger  to  the 
matrimonial  episodes  of  this  kind  that  had  gone  on  for 
so  long.  What  was  of  more  importance,  however, 
neither  of  them  thought  of  the  little  Cecil,  who  was  play- 
ing with  his  toys  in  the  next  room,  with  the  door  wide 
open. 

"  Papa,"  he  said,  after  supper,  when  Allan  was  hold- 
ing him  in  his  lap,  "  what  made  you  marry  mamma  ? " 

Mabel,  who  was  passing  through  the  room  to  reach 
her  chamber,  stopped  as  if  shot.     The  husband  and 
wife  looked  at  each  other  like  people  over  whom  some 
great  catastrophe,  suddenly  revealed,  is  hanging. 
18 


274  Y0 UNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

11 1  don't  see,"  pursued  the  prattler,  "what  made  you 
marry  mamma,  or  what  made  her  marry  you.  You 
don't  seem  to  like  each  other.  When  you  come  home 
I  hear  you  both  scolding.  Folks  that  like  each  other 
don't  do  that." 

To  save  his  life  Fawcett  could  not  reply.  A  tear 
started  in  spite  of  him  and  rolled  down  his  face. 
Mabel  took  a  step  toward  her  husband,  and  in  a  sec- 
ond more  she  had  flung  herself  on  her  knees  with  her 
arms  around  him  and  the  baby,  and  was  sobbing  hys- 
terically. 

"  I  do  love  your  papa !  "  she  cried,  as  soon  as  she 
could  control  her  voice.  "  Oh,  I  do  love  him,  Cecil  1 
It  is  he  " — the  utterance  was  almost  choked  in  its  in- 
distinctness— "  who  does  not  love  me  /" 

The  boy,  strangely  calm  in  the  presence  of  his 
agitated  parents,  turned  to  his  father,  as  if  to  hear  his 
reply. 

"  Mamma  is  wrong,"  articulated  Fawcett.  "  She 
does  not  mean  what  she  says." 

Cecil  drew  the  sad  faces  together,  telling  them  to 
kiss  and  not  quarrel  any  more.  When  this  was  accom- 
plished, for  neither  of  the  parents  dreamed  of  exhibit- 
ing further  feeling  before  him,  he  said  he  was  ready  to 
be  put  in  his  bed,  and  Fawcett  laid  him  there  with  the 
usual  good-night  hug  from  the  little  arms  at  the  final 
moment  of  departure. 

Mabel  sat  sewing  on  something  for  Cecil  when  her 
husband  rejoined  her.  He  went  to  her  side,  took 
the  cloth  from  her  lap  and  kissed  her,  sorry  that  even 
for  a  brief  half -hour  he  had  forgotten  the  great  need  of 
using  gentleness  toward  his  wife. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  about  it — all  about 
Sadie,"  he  said,  earnestly. 


YOUNG  FAWCRTT'S  MAS  EL.  275 

*  Oh,  then  it  is  true  I "  she  cried,  with  a  gasp. 

He  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  It  happened  very  long  ago,"  he  said,  when  he  pro- 
ceeded. "It  gave  me  the  most  unhappiness  I  ever  had 
in  my  life.  I  have  wished  a  thousand  times  I  had 
come  to  you  at  once  and  confessed  everything,  but 
I  was  too  great  a  coward.  Frank  Selden  led  me  into 
it,  and  as  he  has  aroused  your  suspicions,  you  shall 
know  the  whole  truth." 

The  wife  shook  with  apprehension.  She  almost 
wished  she  had  let  the  matter  drop  in  the  first  place, 
but  her  curiosity  was  too  great  now  to  bid  him  cease. 

"  It  was  when  we  had  not  been  married  long.  He 
was  going  to  lend  me  that  money,  you  know,  and 
he  seemed  awfully  obliging.  He  lived  in  rooms  on 
Boylston  Street,  and  he  got  up  a  supper  in  my  honor. 
I  never  thought  of  there  being  anything  strange  about 
it,  and  when  I  found  that  there  were  women  in  the 
party  I  couldn't  very  well  make  a  fuss.  They  were 
a  rather  hard  crowd,  that's  the  truth.  I  got  to  drink- 
ing too  much,  more  because  I  wanted  to  drown  my 
shame  than  anything  else,  and  the  affair  became  a  reg- 
ular revel.  In  the  morning  when  I  woke  up  I  saw  that 
we  were  all  there  still.  After  the  others  had  gone  I 
told  Frank  my  opinion  of  his  conduct,  and  he  made 
light  of  my  indignation.  I  went  home  to  you  wishing 
I  were  dead.  It  would  not  have  taken  much  to  have 
made  me  commit  suicide  on  the  way.  That  is  all  there 
was  to  it.  I  have  never  seen  any  of  those  people 
since." 

A  numbness  crept  slowly  through  Mrs.  Fawcett's 
frame  as  she  listened.  She  knew  nothing  of  this  sort  of 
thing,  and  the  revelation  seemed  to  her  too  debasing  to 
be  believe! 


276  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  And  who,"  she  asked,  "  was  Sadie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  was  one  of  the  women  who  came.  Each 
of  the  men  brought  a  companion,  and  Frank  invited 
two  extra  girls  to  make  the  couples  complete  " 

Mabel  blinked. 

"  Had  you  never  seen  her  before  ? " 

Fawcett  had  not  calculated  on  this.  There  was  an- 
other and  a  darker  chapter  that  he  had  not  supposed 
would  have  to  be  unveiled. 

"  Now,  don't  be  unreasonable,"  he  said,  protestingly. 

"  Unreasonable  !  "  echoed  Mabel,  astonished.  "  I 
certainly  have  a  right  to  know." 

The  husband  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  h'mmed 
twice,  and  then  answered  that  he  had  seen  Miss 
Reeder  before  that  night ;  but  he  added  also  that  it 
was  before  his  marriage. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  those  previous  meetings,"  said 
Mrs.  Fawcett. 

"  They  were  before  I  was  married,  I  tell  you,"  re- 
plied Allan. 

"  That  makes  no  difference." 

He  stared  at  her. 

"  Do  you  maintain,"  said  he,  "  that  I  have  no  right 
to  keep  to  myself  what  I  did  before  I  married — before 
I  was  even  engaged  to  you  ?  That  is  preposterous  ! " 

Mrs.  Fawcett  would  not  agree  with  him. 

"  Is  this  girl's  character  good  ?  "  she  inquired  mean- 
ingly. 

"Well,  hardly." 

M  And  you  knew  her  well  enough  to  meet  her  more 
than  once — being  aware  of  that  fact !  Do  you  imagine 
I  would  have  married  a  man  who  did  such  things  if 
I  had  known  it  at  the  time  ?  " 

Ther*  was  an  absence  of  the  tears  that  ordinarily  ac 


YOUNG  FAWCETT*S  MABBL.  177 

companied  strong  emotion  in  his  wife,  and  Fawcett  was 
struck  with  the  fact  that  he  had  encountered  a  force  of 
new  and  uncertain  strength  in  her  character. 

"Perhaps  not,  if  you  had  known  it  thin,"  he 
admitted.  "  But  this  was  years  and  years  ago.  I  was 
free  to  do  what  I  liked." 

"  Were  you  ? "  she  replied.  "  Supposing  the  case 
were  reversed,  and  it  was  I " 

He  drew  a  long  breath  of  distress. 

"You  don't  mean  to  claim  that  the  case  would 
be  identical  ? "  he  said,  incredulously. 

"  Precisely." 

He  moved  his  chair  and  struck  one  knee  with  his 
palm. 

"  There  is  no  sense,"  said  he,  "  in  such  a  theory. 
There  never  was  and  never  will  be  the  same  rule 
for  women  and  men.  It  is  idle  to  discuss  it.  I  was 
drawn  into  that  drunken  revel,  the  thought  of  which 
has  caused  me  untold  agony ;  but  I'll  swear  to  you, 
Mabel,  if  you  wish  me  to,  that  since  our  marriage, 
since  our  engagement,  I  have  been  true  to  you." 

Her  calmness  surprised  him.  She  acted  as  if  they 
were  talking  of  some  ordinary  matter. 

"I  was  duped,  nevertheless,"  said  she.  "I  married 
you,  thinking  you  a  good  man,  and  you  were  a  bad  one. 
I  repeat,  were  the  case  reversed,  you  would  not  live 
with  me  another  hour  after  hearing  the  confession  of 
my  sin.  I  shall  not  take  such  a  course,  on  account  of 
that  child  in  the  next  room ;  but  I  feel  to-night  that 
the  date  makes  little  difference  to  me — that  if  it  had 
happened  since  our  marriage  it  would  be  only  a  trifle 
less  horrible.  And  you  are  the  man  who  criticised  my 
cousin,  Mr.  Selden,  because  he  took  me  with  a  lady 
friend  of  mine  to  a  public  theatre  and  a  respectable 


* 78  YOUNG  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

restaurant !  Allan,  we  never  got  drunk  together.  Wk 
never  had  disreputable  companions  on  those  occa- 
sions. No  one  can  come  to  you  and  say,  "  Ask  your 
wife  when  she  last  saw  one  of  her  old  paramours  ? " 

Mabel  arose  to  leave  the  room.  Allan  had  a  fearful 
feeling  of  uneasiness.  He  thought  he  had  a  little 
rather,  on  the  whole,  that  she  had  broken  into  tears 
and  reproaches  of  a  more  violent  character.  What 
could  he  do  or  say  to  lessen  her  grief  ?  He  was  glad. 
after  all,  that  he  had  told  his  story,  for  now  he  had 
nothing  to  apprehend  from  Selden's  malignity.  He 
could  not  undo  the  old  fault,  which  he  still  thought 
Mabel  took  too  seriously.  How  he  wished  he  could  ! 

Were  ante-nuptial  sins  as  gross  in  men  as  in  women  ? 
He  went  to  bed  and  fell  asleep  with  this  question  still 
in  his  mind. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  ACT  OF  A  DASTARD. 

MRS.  FAWCETT  did  not  wholly  cease  visiting  her 
friend,  Mrs.  Stuart,  notwithstanding  all  the  trouble 
their  acquaintance  had  caused.  She  thought  it  quite 
enough  if  she  stopped  going  out  of  doors  in  her  com- 
pany when  Frank  Selden  was  of  the  party.  It  could 
not  disgrace  Allan  if  she  merely  went  to  Mattie's  to 
pass  an  afternoon,  even  if  Selden  was  also  there,  as  he 
generally  was. 

Frank  talked  occasionally  of  the  prospective  divorce 
that  Mattie  was  to  get  from  Algy  Stuart,  but  nothing 
seemed  to  materialize  toward  that  end.  The  truth  was 
that  this  idea  of  a  divorce  and  a  subsequent  marriage 
was  only  a  pleasant  fiction  of  Selden's,  designed  to 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  379 

Calm  any  scruples  that  might  arise  in  the  mind  of  his 
cousin.  He  was  content  with  his  present  condition 
and  had  no  mind  to  exchange  it  for  one  more  irksome, 
His  liking  for  Mattie  was  very  strong,  but  he  did  not 
think  the  ceremony  of  a  marriage  would  make  it  any 
pleasanter  to  live  with  her.  If  anything  should  happen 
to  cause  a  rupture,  it  was  much  easier  to  pack  a  trunk 
and  call  a  cab  than  to  spend  a  year  or  two  waiting  the 
decision  of  a  judge,  not  to  mention  such  things  as 
counsel  fees  and  alimony. 

And  Mattie  ?    Was  she  also  content  ? 

By  no  means.  She  loved  Frank  with  all  her  heart, 
and  yet  she  never  was  satisfied  for  a  single  hour  from 
the  time  she  became  his  unmarried  wife.  Her  exist- 
ence up  to  that  time  was  miserable  enough,  and  at 
first  she  welcomed  anything  to  vary  the  dull  old  round, 
Mattie  would  have  made  a  good  wife  to  the  right  man,, 
To  be  a  mistress  was  not  her  proper  avocation. 

Difficulties  seemed  to  environ  her.  The  husband 
the  law  had  given  her  had  proved  himself  worse  than 
none  at  all.  This  man  who  had  crept  into  her  heart 
when  he  had  no  right  there,  had  caused  her  to  violate 
all  the  moral  obligations  she  had  been  educated  to 
respect.  She  felt  that  hers  was  an  entirely  hopeless 
Case.  The  brightest  hours  in  her  life  were  those  that 
Mabel  passed  with  her,  and  still  she  felt  that  even 
this  companionship  was  a  source  of  danger.  Had  she 
been  strong  enough  she  would  have  told  Mrs.  Fawcett 
the  truth,  leaving  her  to  take  such  action  as  she 
thought  wise. 

Wh  :n  a  woman  has  but  one  real  friend  in  the  world 
!t  is  not  pleasant  to  alienate  that  one.  Mattie  let  the 
future  take  care  of  its  own  troubles,  the  present  had 
enough  for  her. 


28o  YO UNO  FA  WCE  TT'S  MABEL. 

The  next  act  in  the  drama  for  Mr.  Favrcett  came 
about  three  months  after  his  confession  to  Mabel  of 
the  circumstances  of  the  revel  at  Selden's.  He  had 
expected  to  be  out  of  town  all  night,  but  had  changed 
his  mind  late  and  returned  home  about  ten  o'clock. 
He  went  into  Cecil's  room  to  kiss  the  boy  in  his  sleep — 
and  found,  to  his  distress,  that  the  little  fellow  was 
tossing  uneasily  in  a  feverish  condition. 

"  Cecil  is  ill,"  he  said,  going  to  find  a  servant.  "  His 
head  is  very  hot.  Did  you  hear  Mrs.  Fawcett  say 
anything  about  it  ?  " 

Mollie  replied  that  the  child  had  not  acted  very  well 
all  day,  but  had  not  specially  complained,  He  had 
not  eaten  much  and  had  asked  to  be  undressed  early. 

Fawcett  felt  a  tingling  at  the  ends  of  his  fingers,  as 
if  he  ought  to  strangle  some  one. 

"  Did  she  give  him  any  medicine  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  think  so." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  has  gone  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

The  father  put  on  his  things  and  went  out  of  doors. 
What  sort  of  a  mother  did  Mabel  call  herself !  He 
must  find  her.  They  must  have  a  doctor  and  nurse. 
He  would  go  over  to  Mrs.  Stuart's  flat,  in  the  first 
place,  and  see  if  by  any  possibility  she  were  there.  As 
he  walked  along  he  struggled  to  suppress  his  anger. 
This  was  not  a  time  when  he  could  tell  his  wife  how 
indignant  her  conduct  made  him.  Another  life  now 
depended  on  hers — another  existence  was  liable  to  be 
injured  by  any  pain  that  she  felt.  No  matter  what  she 
did  he  must  endure  it  with  as  little  protest  as  possible. 
He  resolved  that  when  he  found  her  he  would  use  the 
gentlest  language,  though  his  heart  was  ready  to  burst. 

With  a  push  on  the  electric  arnunciator  at  the  en« 


YO UNG  FA  WCE  TTS  MABEL.  28 1 

trance  of  the  apartment  house  where  Mattie  dwelt,  he 
put  his  ear  to  the  speaking  tube. 

"  What  is  it  ? " 

Tt  was  not  a  woman's  voice. 

"  I  wish  to  see  Mrs.  Stuart." 

"  She  has  gone  out." 

"When  will  she  return?'' 

"  Before  long,  probably." 

Slowly  it  dawned  on  Allan  Fawcett's  brain  where  he 
had  heard  that  voice  before.  Unless  there  were  two 
men  in  the  world  who  spoke  exactly  like  each  other  it 
was  Frank  Selden  at  the  end  of  that  tube ! 

Fawcett  turned  away  sick  and  faint,  for  the  most 
terrible  of  all  suspicions  had  thrust  itself  upon  him. 
The  green-eyed  monster,  so  often  driven  out,  had 
made  its  lair  once  more  in  his  brain.  Mrs.  Stuart  was 
not  at  her  home,  and  Frank  Selden  was  there  !  Was 
he  spending  the  evening  alone  ?  Not  at  all  likely. 
Who,  then,  was  his  companion  ?  Who  ?  Who  but  the 
missing  wife  and  mother  ! 

Another  occupant  of  the  building  came  at  this  junct- 
ure and  opened  the  door.  Muttering  something  about 
having  forgotten  his  key,  Fawcett  entered  after  the  man. 
He  crept  slowly  to  the  stairway,  pausing  many  times 
in  the  ascent.  Now  he  was  as  weak  as  a  child,  again  he 
was  strong  as  a  lion.  Anon  the  perspiration  broke 
out  upon  him  until  his  underclothing  was  as  wet  as 
if  freshly  taken  from  a  laundress'  tub.  Then  the 
muscles  on  his  arm  hardened  like  steel  cords  and  he 
could  have  floored  an  ox  with  his  bare  fist. 

At  the  end  of  his  climb,  when  he  stood  before  the 
door  of  Mrs.  Stuart's  apartment,  he  was  ready  for  any- 
thing. 

He  had  shrewdness  enough  left  to  tap  lightly  on  the 


282  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

portal.  He  wanted  to  make  the  occupants  think  it  was 
Mattie  returning.  Without  a  question  the  door  was 
flung  open  from  the  inside. 

Fawcett  entered,  closing  the  door  behind  him.  He 
not  only  closed  it,  but  drew  the  bolt.  He  did  not 
mean  his  prey  should  escape  him,  nor  that  he 
should  be  able  to  summon  witnesses  or  people  who 
might  interfere. 

Frank's  astonishment  was  extreme.  He  could  not 
understand  how  this  man  should  be  there,  nor  what 
gave  that  awful  look  to  his  white  face. 

The  first  words  explained  all. 

"  /  want  my  wife  !  " 

"  You've  got  a  d d  queer  way  of  stating  it,"  re- 
plied Selden,  who  was  at  least  no  coward.  "But,  to 
relieve  your  mind  at  once,  let  me  say  she  is  not  here." 

Excited  to  the  inmost  core,  Allan  Fawcett  preserved 
a  wonderful  outward  calmness. 

"  I  shall  not  take  your  word,"  he  said.  "  I  intend 
to  search  these  rooms.  And  if  you  try  to  leave  before 
I  have  finished  I  will  throw  you  out  of  a  window." 

Selden  laughed  ironically.  He  would  have  uttered 
the  same  laugh  had  Fawcett  been  holding  a  revolver 
to  his  head. 

"Your  threats  are  unnecessary,"  he  answered.  "I 
should  never  think  of  leaving  you  here  alone,  as  I  am 
responsible  for  the  articles  you  see  about  you.  When 
you  find  that  your  wife  is  not  one  of  them  you  will,  I 
presume,  kindly  take  your  leave." 

He  turned  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  and, 
dropping  into  a  chair,  took  up  an  evening  paper,  which, 
he  had  put  down  when  he  heard  the  tap  on  the  door. 
Nothing  more  nonchalant  could  well  be  conceived. 

For  a  few  seconds  Fawcett  gazed  at  him  stupidly. 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  283 

Then  he  went  through  the  chambers  with  the  thorough- 
ness of  a  police  officer  who  imagines  he  has  tracked  a 
thief.  And  he  found  nothing  of  what  he  sought. 

"  There  is  a  room  behind  that  curtain,"  he  said, 
u  and  it  is  locked.  I  wish  to  enter  it." 

Selden  laid  down  his  paper  languidly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  in  the  tone  of  one  who 
has  not  heard  distinctly. 

"  I  wish  to  enter  that  further  room,"  reiterated  Faw- 
cett,  raising  his  voice. 

Mr.  Selden  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  Quite  impossible." 

"  For  what  reason." 

"  Because,"  and  the  answer  came  very  slowly  indeed, 
"because  that  room  is  mine." 

Fawcett  strode  forward. 

"  I  believe,"  he  muttered  between  his  teeth,  "  my 
wife  is  in  that  room  !  If  you  do  not  unlock  it  or  give 
me  the  key  I  shall  break  in  the  door ! " 

The  other  man  elevated  his  eyebrows  as  if  surprised. 

"A  devilish  strange  idea,  and  not  exactly  compli- 
mentary to  my  pretty  cousin,"  he  replied.  "  However, 
it  would  be  a  pity  to  break  such  a  nice  door.  I  think 
you  will  find  a  key  on  the  mantel." 

Two  minutes  later,  Fawcett  came  back  from  that 
room  also,  convinced  now  that  he  had  been  making  a 
foolish  search.  But  why  was  Selden  living  here  in  this 
flat,  if  everything  was  as  it  should  be  ?  He  had  seen 
Frank's  clothing  in  the  farther  room,  garments  that  he 
recognized.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  at  home  there. 
And  of  course  Mabel  knew  this.  If  she  was  not  there 
to-night,  that  was  no  proof  that  she 

Ah  I  what  will  satisfy  jealousy  when  it  is  once 
aroused ! 


284  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  Well,  you  didn't  find  her,  did  you  ? "  said  Selden, 
quietly. 

Fawcett's  eyes  were  bloodshot.  The  strength  that 
had  come  to  him  had  given  place  again  to  extreme 
weakness. 

"  I  did  not,"  he  answered.  "  If  I  had,  you  would 
not  now  be  sitting  there  asking  me  the  question.  As 
true  as  there's  a  God  on  high,  I  would  have  spilled 
your  brains  on  this  carpet." 

Selden  made  a  gesture  of  repugnance. 

"  You  say  such  disagreeable  things !  "  he  replied. 

His  companion  did  not  seem  to  hear  him. 

"  For  a  long  time,"  he  went  on,  "  my  wife  has  visited 
Mrs.  Stuart  against  my  desire.  I  did  not  absolutely 
forbid  it,  though  there  was  something  that  told  me  I 
should.  But  had  I  imagined  that  you  were  living 
under  this  roof  I  should  have  made  my  command  im- 
perative. You  are  a  libertine  whose  contact  is  injuri- 
ous to  any  decent  woman.  How  far  this  has  gone  I  do 
not  know,  but  I  shall  find  out.  And  I  tell  you,  Frank 
Selden,  if  you  have  done  anything  to  disgrace  me,  or  to 
sully  the  good  name  of  my  wife,  I  will  settle  the  ac- 
count with  you  as  soon  as  the  fact  comes  to  my  knowl- 
edge." 

Mr.  Selden  bowed,  with  a  distant  savor  of  irony. 

"  Have  you  any  explanation  or  defence  to  make  ?  " 
demanded  Allan. 

"  Explanation  ?     Defence  ?     Certainly  not  to  you." 

The  husband  strove  to  master  his  emotions,  which 
were  becoming  uncontrollable. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  why  you  have  a  room  here  ? " 

Selden  laughed. 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  you  have  yours  on  Forty- 
second  Street ;  because  it  is  my  residence." 


YOUNG  FA  WC ETT'S  MABEL.  285 

A  sharp  pain  shot  through  the  eyelids  of  the  ques- 
tioner. 

"  You  are  fully  aware,"  he  said,  "  that  such  a  course 
leaves  my  wife  and  her  cousin  open  to  suspicion.  You 
know  that  the  result  may  be  the  breaking  up  of  a  home 
and  the  ruin  of  more  than  one  reputation.  Now,  I  have 
this  to  tell  you,  no  matter  what  has  or  may  happen 
you  must  give  up  coming  here." 

Mr.  Selden  rose  from  this  chair  and  seated  himself 
loungingly  on  the  arm  of  it. 

"My  rent  is  promptly  paid — always,"  said  he. 
"  Really,  a  matter  of  this  kind  should  be  between  me 
and  my  landlady." 

"  Not  when  it  affects  my  wife  and  her  relations." 

Mr.  Selden  seemed  to  grow  more  interested. 

"  I  may  be  very  obtuse,"  he  said,  "  but  I  cannot  see 
how  my  place  of  living  can  affect  Mrs.  Fawcett." 

"  You  do  not  deny  that  she  comes  here  ? " 

The  door  that  led  into  the  hall  opened  noiselessly 
at  this  moment,  and  Mattie  Stuart  entered  the  room. 

"  No.  But  I  do  deny  that  I  have  any  control  of  her 
actions.  Now,  let's  be  sensible,  just  for  a  moment. 
My  cousin  Mabel  is  your  wife.  Her  cousin,  Mrs. 
Stuart,  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  mine." 

The  brutality  of  the  statement  struck  Fawcett,  but  his 
main  desire  was  to  clear  Mabel,  and  this  assertion,  if 
true,  seemed  to  do  that. 

"  Mrs.  Stuart,"  he  responded,  "  has  a  husband." 

"  Theoretically,  yes.  Practically,  no.  You  thought 
your  wife  was  here  with  me.  Well,  she  wasn't.  If  you 
don't  want  her  here,  why  don't  you  keep  her  away  ?  As 
for  me  and  my  affairs,  they  are  not  your  business." 

Fawcett's  back  was  toward  the  door  and  he  had  no 
knowledge  of  Mrs.  Stuart's  proximity.  On  the  other 


f86  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

hand,  Selden  saw  her  plainly.  He  had  been  nursing 
for  the  past  ten  minutes  a  desire  to  hurt  the  feelings 
of  some  one,  and  the  blow  fell  on  the  hapless  woman 
who  had  been  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  his  lust. 

Satisfied  that  his  wife  was  not  the  mistress  of  this 
man,  Mr.  Fawcett's  thoughts  reverted  to  his  sick  child, 
and  he  started  to  leave  the  house.  As  he  turned,  his 
eyes  encountered  the  shrinking  form  of  Mrs.  Stuart,  with 
her  hand  raised  toward  him  in  an  attitude  of  entreaty. 

"  Take  me  with  you  !  "  she  cried.  "  Take  me  with 
you  !  Don't  leave  me  here  with  him  !  " 

Her  anguish  was  evidently  intense.  She  would  have 
fallen  at  his  feet  in  her  supplication  had  he  permitted 
her.  It  was  plain  that  she  had  been  a  listener  to  Sel- 
den's  exposure  of  the  relation  she  held  toward  him. 
Allan  was  very  sorry  for  her,  but  he  shrank  from  the 
suggestion  she  made. 

"  Take  you  home  with  me  ! "  he  repeated.  "  Take 
you  to  my  house— -you  !  I  will  help  you  to  get  some 
place  were  you  can  find  an  honest  living,  but  after 
what  I  have  learned  to-night  I  could  do  no  more." 

Selden  came  across  the  room  and  laid  his  hand  on 
Mattie's  arm. 

"  Don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself  1  "  he  exclaimed, 
roughly.  "You're  mine  as  much  as  if  a  hundred 
preachers  had  married  us.  Laws  are  not  the  only 
things  that  hold  people  together.  This  fellow  came 
here  in  a  rage  because  he  thought  his  wife  here  alone 
with  me.  He  found  she  wasn't,  and  in  explaining 
matters  I  stumbled  on  the  truth.  You  never  saw  me," 
he  added,  to  Fawcett,  "rushing  into  people's  apart- 
ments and  asking  if  my  wife  was  hidden  there  !  When 
you  intimate  that  this  lady  is  not  good  enough  to  enter 
jour  door  remember  Sadie  Reeder  i " 


YOUNG  FAWCETTyS  MABEL.  387 

Fawcett  did  not  wish  to  get  into  another  argument. 
He  wanted  to  get  home,  where  little  Cecil  needed  his 
attentions. 

"  Take  me  away  from  here  !  "  pleaded  Mattie,  as  he 
crossed  the  threshold.  "Take  me  somewhere  —  any- 
where —  away  from  this  man  !  " 

Tears  were  running  down  both  her  cheeks.  Her 
hair  was  dishevelled  in  her  distress.  Her  voice  was 
very  low  and  tuned  to  an  exquisite  touch  of  pathos. 
But  Fawcett  had  no  time  to  linger.  He  regretted 
every  minute  his  jealousy  had  kept  him  from  the  bed- 
side of  his  boy. 

"  Cecil  is  very  sick,"  he  explained.  "  I  was  looking 
for  Mabel,  and  I  must  return  home  at  once.  To-morrow, 
if  you  will  send  to  the  office  -  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  pleaded,  struggling  with  the  arms 
that  held  her.  "To-night!  Don't  leave  me  here  I 


Fawcett  closed  the  door  behind  him  and  the  sobbing 
Voice  was  heard  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

DEAD,    FOR  A  DUCAT. 

MRS.  FAWCETT  was  at  home  when  her  husband  arrived. 
She  had  been  with  Mrs.  Stuart  in  search  of  a  physician 
and  had  been  detained  at  his  office.  As  she  did  not 
expect  Allan  home  that  night,  and  as  she  did  not  care 
to  say  anything  of  her  fears  to  Moliie,  she  had  gone  for 
Mattie,  to  consult  her  in  relation  to  a  doctor,  without 
leaving  any  word  with  her  domestic  in  relation  to  the 
matter.  She  did  not  believe  Cecil  dangerously  ill,  but 


28*  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

she  knew  his  temperature  was  too  high,  his  appetite 
light,  and  that  he  was  extremely  restless.  When  Mr. 
Fawcett  reached  the  house  he  found  Dr.  Legate  await- 
ing the  return  of  Mollie  from  a  drug-store,  whither  she 
had  gone  with  a  prescription. 

It  was  with  painfully  mixed  feelings  that  Allan  Faw- 
cett stood  by  the  bedside  of  his  boy,  listening  to  the 
voices  of  the  doctor  and  Mabel,  alternately.  It  seemed 
as  if  everything  he  cared  for  in  this  world  was  at  stake 
now.  He  was  not  sure  his  wife  was  faithful.  He  could 
not  tell  but  his  child  had  a  fatal  illness.  And  he  must 
conceal  both  these  fears,  on  account  of  the  delicate 
condition  of  the  mother.  In  these  days  there  were  two 
lives  to  consider.  If  Mabel  had  been  true  to  him  his 
regard  for  her  unborn  child  was  hardly  less  than  that 
for  the  one  now  tossing  on  the  sick-bed.  It  would  not 
do  to  unwarrantably  excite  her.  He  must  suppress  his 
apprehensions  from  fear  of  the  effect  on  his  future  heir. 

And  he  must  believe  Mabel  true !  Yes,  he  would 
believe  it,  until  positive  evidence  came  to  the  contrary. 
She  had  been  criminally  reckless  in  associating  with 
Selden  and  his  mistress,  but  personally  he  could  not 
conceive  her  stained.  Nevertheless,  the  doubts  would 
recur  with  terrible  force,  like  the  repeated  shocks  of  an 
earthquake. 

The  doctor  gave  the  child  his  first  dose  of  medicine, 
left  particular  directions,  and  went  away,  bidding  them 
call  him  at  once  on  any  alteration  of  any  of  the  symp- 
toms for  the  worse.  Allan  had  no  idea  of  seeking  rest 
that  night,  and  his  wife  refused  to  accept  his  suggestion 
that  she  lie  down.  She  was  genuinely  alarmed  this 
time,  and  could  not  have  slept  had  she  tried.  It  had 
troubled  her  exceedingly  when  she  discovered  Cecil's 
condition,  because  Allan  was  away.  Now  that  he  bad 


YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT  '5  MABEL.  289 

eome  she  relied  wholly  on  his  judgment,  but  she  did 
not  like  to  leave  him.  She  took  a  chair  and  drew  it 
close  to  his,  and  together  they  watched  each  rise  and 
fall  of  the  little  bosom. 

"  You  don't  think  he's  very,  very  sick,  do  you  ? "  she 
whispered. 

She  knew  that  her  husband's  brow  was  dark,  but  she 
ascribed  that  to  his  worriment  over  the  child.  She  had 
no  idea  that  he  had  recently  been  to  Mrs.  Stuart's  flat 
and  learned  that  Frank  Selden  had  a  room  there.  And 
she  would  have  been  more  surprised  than  he  to  hear 
of  his  subsequent  discovery. 

"  I — I  don't  know,"  replied  Fawcett,  constrainedly. 

After  that  the  conversation  ceased,  and  except  for  a 
necessary  word  now  and  then,  neither  spoke  until  nearly 
daylight.  At  that  time  Cecil  awoke  and  looked  so  badly 
that  Mollie  was  roused  and  sent  for  the  doctor. 

Another  examination,  more  medicine,  wise  looks  on 
the  physician's  part,  and  similar  phenomena,  known  to 
all  who  have  ever  had  anything  to  do  with  such  cases, 
followed.  Cecil  was  very  fretful  and  rejected  the  offers 
of  both  his  parents  to  hold  him,  although  he  insisted 
that  he  wanted  to  be  taken  up. 

"  Won't  you  let  papa  take  you  ? "  asked  Fawcett. 
The  boy  had  always  been  very  partial  to  him. 

"  No,  no  !  "  replied  the  little  fellow. 

"  He  wants  mamma,"  cooed  Mabel,  holding  out  her 
hands  to  him. 

The  boy  did  not  reply  to  this  suggestion  in  words, 
but  he  drew  away  as  if  repugnant  to  the  idea. 

"  Shall  I  call  Mollie  ? "  asked  his  mother,  and  this 
was  received  even  more  pettishly. 

The  doctor  said  the  child  ought  to  get  up  for  a  little 
while,  as  a  change  of  position  would  be  beneficial,  but 
19 


190 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 


it  was  evident  that  Cecil  would  not  let  any  one  in  the 
house  touch  him  without  a  struggle. 

"  What  do  you  want  ? "  inquired  Allan,  bending  orer 
the  child. 

"I  want  Aunt  Mattie." 

Fawcett  straightened  himself  up  with  a  jerk.  The 
blood  rushed  to  his  brain  and  made  him  dizzy. 

"  Whom  does  he  speak  of  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Legate.  "  If 
it  is  any  one  you  can  get  easily,  you  had  best  do  so. 
The  less  he  is  agitated  the  better." 

Knowing  nothing  of  what  tortured  her  husband,  Mrs. 
Fawcett  turned  to  him  inquiringly. 

"  Shall  I  run  over  for  her  ?  It  will  only  take  fire 
minutes." 

"  No  ! "  he  answered,  abruptly. 

The  doctor  saw  that  something  not  plain  to  him  was 
the  matter,  and  said  no  more  on  that  point.  They 
managed  with  a  good  deal  of  coaxing,  and  not  without 
a  flow  of  tears,  to  get  the  boy  into  his  father's  arms 
while  his  bed  was  being  changed.  At  last  Dr.  Legate, 
with  renewed  injunctions  to  be  sure  and  call  him  if  any- 
thing occurred,  and  with  a  promise  to  come  back  at  noon 
anyway,  left  the  house. 

"  If  you  know  of  any  person  the  boy  likes,  who  can 
come  and  help  you  take  care  of  him,  you  ought  to  send 
at  once,"  were  his  last  words.  "  He  will  not  be  able 
to  be  left  alone  for  several  days  at  least,  and  you  and 
your  wife  will  have  to  take  some  rest  before  long." 

Mabel  had  not  failed  to  note  the  peculiarly  savage 
tone  with  which  her  husband  had  declined  her  sugges- 
tion that  she  should  go  for  Mrs.  Stuart.  She  knew  he 
did  not  like  to  have  her  associate  intimately  with  Mattie, 
though  he  had  not  positively  forbidden  it.  She  said 
nothing,  however,  till  when,  after  another  nap,  Cecil 


YO UNG  FA  WCE  TT 'S  MABEL.  29 1 

awoke  and  began  again  to  sob,  over  and  over,  that  he 
wanted  his  Aunt  Mattie. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  go  for  her  ? "  Mabel  asked,  finally. 
"  Cecil  was  always  very  fond  of  her,  you  know,  and  she 
would  make  the  best  nurse  we  could  get.  I  know  you 
don't  like  her  very  well,  but  this  is  a  special  case.  She 
would  come,  I'm  sure.  Last  night,  when  she  went  with 
me  to  the  doctor's,  she  was  almost  as  much  distressed 
as  I." 

Last  night  !  Fawcett  did  not  want  to  think  of  last 
night.  How  could  those  tainted  hands  touch  his 
innocent  boy  ?  He  shook  his  head  impatiently  and 
began  to  pace  the  room,  trying  to  think  what  he  ought 
to  do.  Mrs.  Stuart  was  a  guilty  woman.  Undoubt- 
edly his  wife  knew  all  about  her  amours,  had  helped 
to  shield  her  in  them.  He  could  not  allow  her  to 
enter  his  door.  It  would  be  condoning  her  great 
offence. 

"  Oh,  papa,"  wailed  Cecil,  again,  for  the  tenth  time, 
"  I  want  Aunt  Mattie  !  " 

Frantically  Fawcett  turned  to  his  wife. 

"  For  God's  sake,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  man's  un- 
reason, "  why  doesn't  some  one  go  for  that  woman  1 " 

Mabel  joyfully  started  to  get  her  hat. 

"  No,  not  you  /"  he  cried.     "  Mollie  !  " 

How  strangely  he  acted !  But  he  had  been  out  of 
his  bed  all  night,  and  worried  extremely  over  his  idol- 
i2ed  son.  Mrs.  Fawcett  did  not  think  his  conduct 
meant  anything  unusual. 

"  What  shall  I  tell  her  ? "  asked  the  domestic,  ap- 
pearing at  the  door. 

"  Wait  a  minute  and  I  will  write  a  note." 

He  had  no  doubt  that  Mollie  knew  what  was  going 
•n  at  Mrs.  Stuart's.  Everybody  in  New  York  knew  it, 


292  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

probably   had  known  it  for  months ;  everybody — ex« 
cept  him. 

Going  to  a  desk  he  wrote  these  lines,  sealed  and 
handed  them  to  Mollie  : 

u  MRS.  STUART  :  Cecil  is  dangerously  ill.  He  cries  for 
you  continually.  The  doctor  thinks  you  can  do  him  a 
great  deal  of  good.  I  told  you  last  night  I  did  not 
wish  you  to  enter  my  house,  but  this  is  an  unforeseen 
emergency.  Come  if  you  will,  and  do  what  you  can 
for  him.  Do  not  think,  however,  that  this  exception 
alters  in  any  way  the  stand  I  am  compelled  to  take 
toward  you.  A.  F." 

When  Mrs.  Stuart  received  this  note  she  was  alone 
in  her  apartments.  Selden  had  gone  out  early,  after  an 
unpleasant  night  and  morning,  during  which  Mattie 
had  passed  most  of  the  time  in  tears.  She  told  Mollie 
to  say  that  she  would  be  over  immediately,  and  went  to 
her  dressing-case  to  remove  as  far  as  possible  the  traces 
of  suffering  from  her  face.  Then  she  wrote  a  brief  note 
to  Selden,  explaining  the  cause  of  her  absence,  and 
went  out. 

When  she  came  into  Mr.  Fawcett's  presence  he 
bowed  with  cold  formality.  As  soon  as  he  could  he  per- 
suaded his  wife  to  go  to  her  chamber  and  take  the  sleep 
she  needed,  saying  he  would  follow  her  example  in  a 
short  time.  He  wanted  the  two  women  together  as 
little  as  possible.  It  was  a  most  disagreeable  neces- 
sity that  had  brought  Mrs.  Stuart  there,  and  he  meant 
to  reduce  the  pain  to  the  lowest  possible  compass. 

Cecil  nestled  in  the  arms  of  his  new  nurse,  and  when 
Dr.  Legate  next  came  he  was  please  <•".  to  see  this  new 
assistant.  But  the  disease  was  not  taking  the  course 


YOUNG  FAWCETT' S  MABEL. 


293 


he  had  hoped,  and  he  answered  the  father's  queries 
with  a  very  grave  countenance.  The  boy  acted  as  if  in 
a  partial  stupor,  from  which  it  was  not  easy  to  rouse 
him  even  temporarily.  The  physician  did  not  leave 
the  house  all  that  afternoon ;  and  when  it  was  nearly 
sunset  he  told  Fawcett  that  no  skill  on  earth  could 
save  the  life  of  his  child. 

Stupidly  the  father  listened  to  the  medical  terms 
that  rolled  from  the  doctor's  tongue.  He  understood 
but  on»  thing — the  terrible  fact  that  this  child,  in  whom 
his  life  was  bound  up,  was  slowly  but  surely  dying ! 

They  stood  by  the  bedside  in  which  Cecil  lay — Mrs. 
Stuart  weeping,  Mr.  Fawcett  with  dry  eyes. 

"You  had  best  call  the  mother,"  suggested  the  doc- 
tor, quietly.  "  It  is  a  matter  of  only  a  few  minutes 
now." 

Fawcett  beckoned  him  into  the  next  room  and  told 
him  of  his  wife's  situation. 

"  Urn — ,"  replied  the  m«dical  man.  "  In  that  case 
perhaps  it  is  safer  to  let  her  finish  her  sleep.  Then, 
when  she  awakes,  break  it  to  her  as  gently  as  you  can." 

Heart-broken,  the  father  returned  to  Cecil's  chamber 
and  watched  the  gradual  extinguishment  of  the  bright- 
est light  that  had  ever  shone  along  his  pathway.  His 
despair  was  so  great  that  he  seemed  stony  to  those  who 
looked  at  him.  There  are  griefs  where  the  ordinary 
tokens  of  sorrow  fail  utterly  to  bring  relief. 

"  I  will  break  it  to  Mabel,  if  you  wish,"  said  Mrs. 
Stuart,  timidly,  when  all  was  over.  The  tears  had  not 
ceased  to  course  down  her  cheeks. 

He  did  not  care  now.  It  could  make  no  difference. 
He  had  wondered  in  what  terms  he  could  convey  the 
news,  tortured  as  he  was.  Yes,  he  said,  she  might  tell  her. 

Mrs.  Fawcett  did  not  awake  for  several  hours,  and 


294 


YOUNG  FA  WC ETrs  MABEL. 


when  she  heard  what  had  happened  she  sobbed  bitterly 
for  a  long  time.  She  lay  in  Mattie's  arms,  soothed  by 
her  cousin,  but  the  tears  of  the  women  continued  to 
mingle.  At  midnight,  exhausted  with  her  grief  and 
previous  labors,  Mabel  fell  asleep  again  by  Mattie's 
side.  Nature  was  bound  to  assert  itself. 

As  for  Allan,  he  could  not  yet  resign  himself  to 
slumber,  though  he  tried  several  times  to  do  so.  He 
walked  about  his  rooms  restlessly,  after  everybody  else 
had  retired,  going  in  and  out  of  the  chamber  where  the 
dead  child  lay,  and  still  without  visible  tokens  of  the 
loss  he  had  sustained. 

At  about  one  o'clock  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door 
that  sounded  startlingly  loud  in  the  complete  stillness 
that  surrounded  it. 

He  went  to  the  door  and  flung  it  open.  Frank  Selden 
stood  there,  more  or  less  under  the  influence  of  liquor. 
He  had  followed  some  belated  occupant  of  the  building 
and  ascended  to  the  fourth  floor  where  the  Fawcetts 
lived. 

"  Tell  Mattie  I  want  her,"  he  said,  in  a  rather  thick 
voice. 

All  the  outrage  of  the  intrusion,  all  the  shame  of  the 
message,  came  over  Fawcett,  but  he  restrained  himself. 

"  Mrs.  Stuart  has  gone  to  bed,"  he  said.  "  She  is 
very  tired.  I  should  not  like  to  call  her." 

Selden  realized  little  except  that  he  was  being  frus- 
trated in  his  desires,  and  he  responded  in  a  louder  voice 
that  he  wanted  Mattie,  by  G — d !  and  he  proposed  to 
have  her ! 

"  I've  been  alone  in  that  d d  flat  all  the  evening," 

said  he,  "  and  I'm  d d  sick  of  it.  You  tell  her  to  get 

up  and  come  along.  It's  none  of  your  business  what 
I  do,  by  G— d." 


YOUNG  FAWCETrs  MABEL.  393 

Selden  had  passed  the  threshold,  and  it  seemed  to 
Fawcett  that  his  ribald  utterances  insulted  the  still 
form  that  lay  in  the  room  beyond.  Catching  the  in- 
truder suddenly  by  the  shoulders  he  rushed  him  out  of 
the  apartment  and  down  half-a-dozen  stairs. 

"  If  you  know  what's  good  for  you,  go !  "  he  said,  in 
a  harsh  whisper. 

Had  Selden  been  perfectly  sober  he  could  have 
seen  by  the  dangerous  light  in  the  drawn  face  above 
him  that  he  had  best  obey  the  injunction  ;  but  the 
liquor  he  had  taken  weakened  his  powers  of  observa- 
tion and  reason.  Fawcett  had  taken  several  steps 
back  toward  his  own  door  when  Frank  began  to  fol- 
low him.  At  the  top  of  the  flight  the  foremost  man 
paused. 

"  Did  you  hear  me  ? "  he  asked,  quietly. 

In  a  perfect  rage  Selden  started  toward  him,  strik- 
ing a  wild  blow  at  the  air  as  he  pressed  forward. 
Then,  in  some  way,  difficult  to  account  for,  he  lost  his 
balance  so  completely  that  he  fell  over  the  balustrade. 
It  was  all  a  matter  of  four  seconds — and  Fawcett  heard 
the  body  strike  with  resounding  force  on  the  tiled 
floor,  forty  feet  below. 

The  commission  merchant  turned  and  saw  that  his 
door  was  still  open.  He  waited  a  few  moments  to 
learn  whether  the  fall  had  aroused  any  other  occupant 
of  the  house.  As  it  did  not  seem  to  have  done  so,  he 
entered  his  apartment,  went  to  a  lounge  and  fell  asleep 

upon  it. 

****** 

The  coroner  that  was  summoned  by  the  janitor,  five 
hours  later,  decided  that  death  was  instantaneous. 
He  also  reported  that  deceased  had  been  drinking  and 
had  met  with  his  fate  from  an  accident,  to  which  ther« 


396  YO  UNG  FA  WCE  TT*S  MABEL. 

was  no  witness.  When  Mr.  Fawcett  was  told  of  this 
during  the  morning  he  merely  elevated  his  eyebrows 
and  remarked  "  Indeed  !  " 

But  when  Mattie  Stuart  learned  of  her  lover's  death 
she  went  into  fainting  fits,  and  for  days  it  was  a  ques- 
tion whether  she  would  survive  the  shock. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

FOR  THEIR  CHILD'S  SAKE. 

ALLAN  FAWCETT  has  since  said,  more  than  once, 
that  he  lived  the  five  months  that  ensued  in  a  daze. 
Everything  was  colored  with  a  heavy  tinge  of  gray. 
The  loss  of  his  child  would  have  been,  in  itself,  suffi- 
cient to  have  given  him  a  severe  strain,  had  there  been 
nothing  else  to  bear  him  down.  He  had  literally  wor- 
shipped Cecil.  No  shadow  of  the  grave  had  crossed 
the  dreams  he  knew,  the  bright  castles  he  had 
builded  with  the  little  fellow  as  their  central  figure.  It 
all  came  upon  him  with  hardly  any  warning,  and  at  a 
time,  too,  when  there  were  other  things  only  less  pain- 
ful to  keep  them  company. 

He  went  about  the  business  of  Decker  &  Co.  in 
much  the  old  way.  His  partners  believed  that  he  was 
recovering  very  well  from  his  bereavement.  He 
bought  and  sold  grain,  took  orders  on  commission, 
gave  advice  to  customers,  just  as  before.  At  night  he 
went  home  with  a  set  face,  climbing  the  familiar  stairs 
over  the  balusters  of  which  he  had,  unmoved,  seen 
frank  Selden  fall  to  his  death.  He  entered  his 
apartment,  said  "  Good-evening "  to  his  wife,  ate  his 
•upper,  took  up  his  newspaper,  read  an  hour  or  two 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  397 

and  went  to  bed,  wearing  the  external  appearance  of  a 
man  who  has  nothing  special  on  his  mind. 

Mabel  did  not  know  exactly  what  to  think  of  him. 
She  remembered  how  calmly  he  carried  himself  at  the 
funeral,  how  collected  he  was  when  she  was  convulsed 
with  her  grief.  She  knew  he  had  loved  the  child  de- 
votedly, and  she  could  not  understand  his  reserve. 

Finding  that  he  continued  as  sphinx-like  as  he  began 
she  relapsed  into  melancholy  and  brooded  a  great 
deal,  which  was  very  bad  for  her  health,  and  for  the 
child  that  was  yet  to  be  born  into  that  household. 

It  was  this  child  that  made  Fawcett  continue  to  treat 
his  wife  with  respect.  It  was  this  that  made  him  refrain 
from  any  allusion  to  what  he  had  discovered  in  Mrs 
Stuart's  apartment,  that  night  when  he  learned  that 
Selden  claimed  her  as  his  mistress.  He  could  not  dis- 
cuss that  matter  with  his  wife  without  endangering  the 
well-being  of  another  whose  existence  was  the  only 
thing  he  lived  to  conserve.  No  provocation  could 
have  induced  him  to  speak  an  impatient  word  to  her 
while  her  nerves  were  connected  so  intimately  with  tho 
growing  existence.  He  had  not  enough  deceit  in  him 
to  pretend  a  deep  affection  that  he  did  not  feel,  but  h« 
treated  Mabel  kindly  and  waited  for  the  time  when  he 
could  unbosom  his  trouble  to  her  with  no  danger 
except  to  herself. 

Ten  days  after  Cecil's  funeral  Mrs.  Stuart  was  able 
to  leave  the  house,  and  she  did  not  wish,  even  had 
he  asked  it,  to  remain  longer  than  was  necessary. 
She  knew,  without  a  word  from  him  on  the  subject,  that 
he  had  said  nothing  to  his  wife  in  relation  to  what  he 
had  learned  about  her.  Mabel  would  not  havo 
treated  her  in  that  polite  manner  if  she  knew. 

Doubly  a  widow,  though  she  had  a  husband  livfatf* 


2^8  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

friendless  and  alone  in  the  world,  Mattie  might  have 
gone  to  the  end  of  her  natural  career  had  not  Fawcett 
voluntarily  taken  upon  himself  her  necessary  expenses. 
The  day  she  was  to  leave  he  put  a  hundred  dollars  into 
her  hand  telling  her  to  call  on  him — by  mail — for  more 
whenever  she  needed  it,  and  by  all  means  to  live 
thenceforth  a  life  of  honor. 

The  poor  woman  burst  into  tears,  but  she  could  not 
answer  him  in  words.  The  money  seemed  to  burn  her 
fingers,  coming  from  him,  but  it  was  better  than  the 
alternative  that  had  arisen  dimly  in  her  mind,  at  which 
he  hinted.  She  went  back  to  her  flat,  where  every- 
thing reminded  her  of  her  happy  though  guilty  past 
and  in  a  month  sold  the  furniture  and  took  a  quiet 
lodging  in  a  remote  part  of  the  city.  Then  she  tried 
to  find  some  employment  that  would  relieve  her  from 
accepting  beyond  the  briefest  time  the  charity  of  the 
man  she  had  wronged. 

The  death  of  Frank  Selden,  coming  in  such  a  sud- 
den and  shocking  manner,  proved  too  much  for  his 
mother,  and  within  a  few  days  she  followed  him  to  the 
grave.  Mabel  excused  herself  from  attending  the  first 
funeral,  on  account  of  her  own  bereavement,  but  she 
went  to  Boston  to  the  second,  accompanied  by  her 
husband.  That  evening,  the  lawyer  who  attended  to 
the  legal  affairs  of  the  Selden  family  sought  Mr.  Faw- 
cett at  his  hotel. 

"  Excuse  me  for  coming  to  you  so  soon  about  a  bus 
iness  matter,"  he  said,  to  Allan,  as  soon  as  he  had  pre 
sented  his  card.  "It  seems  necessary,  however,  tc 
inform  you  that  as  both  Mr.  Selden  and  his  mother 
died  intestate  their  property  will  all  fall  to  your  wife.'- 

Neither  Mr.  Fawcett  nor  Mabel  had  thought  of  this. 
Allan  ran  it  over  in  his  mind  and  concluded  that  the 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  999 

lawyer  was  right.  He  had  never  heard  of  any  near 
relations  of  the  family  except  Mabel  and  her  mother, 
After  a  little  further  talk  he  went  to  ask  Mabel  to 
come  into  the  room,  and  the  facts  were  repeated  to  her 
by  the  legal  gentleman. 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied,  simply,  not  seeming  to  be 
moved  in  the  least  by  the  news.     "  Mr.  Fawcett  will  do 
whatever  is  necessary." 
But  Allan  shook  his  head. 

"  Let  it  be  understood,"  he  corrected,  "  that  I  shall 
have  nothing  whatever  to  do  about  it.  Mrs.  Fawcett 
must  do  her  business  entirely  with  you.  The  property 
will  be  hers,  not  mine,  and  I  refuse  to  take  any  part  ia 
the  affair." 

The  lawyer  smiled  obligingly. 

"  As  you  please,"  he  said.     "  Under  the  law  a  man 

and  his  wife  are  held  to  be  one,  and " 

"  Not  in  a  matter  of  inheritance,"  interrupted  Faw- 
cett. 

It  was  suggested  that  Mrs.  Fawcett  had  better  remain 
for  a  few  days  at  Boston,  to  attend  to  the  more  press- 
ing matters,  but  Mr.  Fawcett  objected.  He  said  she 
could  sign  an  application  for  a  probate  of  the  estate 
and  that  nothing  else  would  be  required  at  present. 
The  lawyer  must  take  things  into  his  own  hands. 
Fawcett  would  not  leave  his  wife,  and  he  wanted  to  get 
back  to  his  office  as  soon  as  possible.  And  this  was 
the  way  matters  were  arranged. 

"  How  much  do  you  think  there  will  be  from  both 
estates  ?  "     Fawcett  asked  quietly,  as  he  stood  at  the 
door  of  his  parlor,  after  his  wife  had  left  the  room. 
"  Something  like  four  hundred  thousand  dollars." 
Fawcett  bowed  thoughtfully  and  the  visitor  withdrew. 
Three  months  later  Mrs.  Fawcett  came  to  speak  to 


joo  Y6VNC  FA  WCE 7W  T&ABE1. 

her  husband  one  evening,  as  he  sat,  according  to  his 
custom,  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand.  He  was  not 
reading  it,  but  he  used  to  sit  for  hours  with  it  before 
his  face,  absorbed  in  thought. 

"  I  want  to  ask  your  permission  to  do  something  with 
a  part  of  my  money,"  she  said,  almost  timidly,  taking  a 
chair  close  to  him. 

"You  do  not  need  my  permission,"  he  replied, 
gravely. 

"I  know  I  don't— in  law,"  she  said,  for  the  full 
rights  of  a  married  woman  in  such  cases  had  long  since 
been  explained  to  her  by  her  attorney.  "  But  this  is 
a  matter  that  I  want  you  fully  satisfied  about.  It  is 
something  I  shall  not  do  unless  you  approve  of  it." 

Wondering  what  she  was  about  to  say,  he  waited  for 
her  to  proceed. 

"I  have  been  thinking  of  poor  Mattie,"  faltered 
Mabel.  She  had  not  uttered  the  word  when  his  brow 
clouded  as  she  had  feared  it  would.  "  She  has  had  a 
great  deal  of  trouble.  Some  time  ago  she — she  lost — 
her — lodger.  Now  I  hear  she  has  broken  up  her  little 
home  and  gone  into  one  room.  She  is  even  trying  to 
get  work  in  a  shop." 

She  paused  again,  thinking  it  would  help  her  if  he 
would  say  something,  no  matter  what,  but  he  did  not 
change  his  attitude  or  look. 

"  I  got  my  money,"  Mabel  went  on,  "  from  my  aunt 
and  cousin.  It  is  very  much  more  than  I  have  any  use 
for.  You  have  refused  to  take  it  and  put  it  into  your 
business,  as  I  wanted  you  to  do.  Now,  if  I  should 
send  a  little  of  it  to  Mattie,  say  five  or  ten  thousand 
dollars,  it  would  be  a  fortune  for  her,  and  she  would  get 
along  very  well  indeed." 

Still  he  did  not  move  or  speak,  and  after  a  few  mo- 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MAMfL.  30* 

ments  she  asked  again  whether  he  saw  any  reasonable 
objection  to  her  plan. 

"  I  told  you,  in  the  first  place,"  he  replied,  rousing 
himself  slightly,  "  that  I  never  should  take  your  money, 
and  never  should  dictate  to  you  what  disposition  to 
make  of  it." 

She  looked  troubled,  though  his  tones  were  kindly 
enough. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  dictate,  nor  even  to  advise,  it 
you  do  not  wish  to,"  said  she.  "  I  only  want  to  know 
whether  you  would  care — whether  you  would  rather  I 
did  not  do  it." 

He  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  I  do  not  care,"  he  answered. 

"  And  you  are  quite  willing  ?  I  would  not  for  the 
world  do  a  thing  you  would  not  like,  if  I  knew  it." 

He  raised  his  eyes  slowly  till  they  took  in  the  whole 
of  her  face,  but  she  was  not  looking  at  him  now.  She 
was  gazing  at  a  distant  point  in  the  room,  in  her  aber- 
ration. 

"  I  think  the  idea  a  good  one,  if  that  is  what  you 
wish  to  know,"  said  Fawcett.  "When  Mrs.  Stuart  left 
this  house  I  gave  her  money  to  live  on  temporarily,  and 
I  have  sent  her  some  twice  since  then.  I  am  glad  you 
think  of  aiding  her." 

Mabel  turned  toward  her  husband  with  a  displeased! 
expression. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  did  that,"  said  she. 

"  Some  one  had  to  do  it.  I  knew  she  hadn't  a  penny. 
I  knew  she," — he  hesitated  a  second — "  had  lost  her — 
lodger.  I  knew  she  could  not  afford  to  keep  her  flat. 
You  had  no  money  of  your  own  at  that  time.  So  I 
gave  her  a  hundred  dollars,  and  I  have  sent  her  at 
much  more." 


£02  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MAKEL. 

Mrs.  Fawcett  did  not  like  this,  and  a  half-formed 
resolution  came  into  her  head  not  to  carry  out  her  plan 
of  helping  her  cousin. 

"  I  don't  quite  see  what  you  did  it  for,"  she  pouted. 

"  Mabel  1  "  Fawcett  cried  out  the  words  in  agony, 
"  she  held  my  dying  boy  in  her  arms  !  She  had  no 
one  else  to  look  to  !  I  know  the  natural  fate  of  women 
well  brought  up,  educated  and  refined,  in  such  a  city 
as  this,  thrown  on  their  resources,  with  no  trade  or 
profession  !  Could  I  have  risked  letting  the  lips  my 
boy  had  kissed ! ! " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  for  his  wife  had  slipped 
from  her  chair  to  the  carpet  and  was  sobbing  frantic- 
ally. He  had  lost  one  child,  he  must  not  imperil  the 
second.  So  he  ceased  to  talk  of  Mrs.  Stuart,  and 
raised  Mabel  to  a  sofa,  where,  in  a  short  time,  he  saw 
with  satisfaction  that  she  seemed  quite  recovered. 
Nothing  was  worse,  a  doctor  had  told  him,  for  his 
coming  infant  than  over-excitement  on  the  mother's 
part.  He  must  be  careful  that  nothing  of  the  kind 
occurred  again  till  all  danger  was  past. 

And  at  last  the  day  came.  In  such  matters  there  is 
seldom  any  postponement  on  account  of  the  weather. 
Reprieves  by  the  governor  or  a  stay  of  proceedings  by 
order  of  the  court  of  appeals  are  not  to  be  counted  on. 
Into  that  awful  valley  of  the  shadow  from  which  each 
little  sun  has  to  rise  descended  the  pretty  wife  of  Allan 
Fawcett  for  the  second  time. 

But — oh !  the  pity  of  it ! — there  was  a  cloud  across 
the  face  of  nature  and  the  young  luminary  came  forth 
with  life  extinguished.  The  anxious  father,  pacing  the 
floor  of  the  room  beyond,  heard  the  news  that  a 
daughter  had  been  born,  whose  slight  bosom  had  never 
drawn  even  one  breath  of  the  air  of  earth. 


YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL.  303 

¥«twcett  put  on  his  bat  and  went  out  of  doors.  Well, 
It  was  over,  at  last. 

He  knew  now  what  he  should  do.  One  thing  could 
have  saved  his  wedded  life,  that  hung  by  such  a 
slender  thread ;  one  thing  would  have  made  it  possible 
for  him  to  forget  and  forgive.  As  a  mother  of  a  living 
child  Mabel  might  again  have  taken  her  place  at  his 
side,  from  which  he  had  excluded  her  so  long.  Now 
his  hope  of  happiness  was  ended.  All  he  had  dreamed 
of  being  would  be  buried  in  the  lot  at  Greenwood 
where  his  Cecil  lay. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"CAN  YOU  EVER  LOVE  ME." 

FAWCETT  spent  a  good  part  of  the  next  fortnight  in 
disposing  of  his  interest  in  the  concern  called  Decker 
&  Co.  Business  had  taken  a  better  turn  of  late,  and 
there  was  a  fairly  good  sum  to  his  credit  in  addition  to 
the  amount  he  owed.  His  partners  pleaded  with  him 
not  to  desert  them,  and  asked  in  vain  the  reason  for 
his  sudden  announcement  of  an  intention  to  give  up 
the  place  he  held.  He  would  only  say  that  he  wished 
to  make  a  change  and  that  time  was  pressing. 

He  inquired  of  the  doctor  who  attended  his  wife 
how  soon  she  would  be  able  to  hear  some  disagreeable 
news  that  he  was  obliged  to  impart  to  her,  without  in- 
jury to  her  health.  The  medical  man  suggested  that 
another  month  had  best  be  allowed,  as  Mrs.  Fawcett 
was  recovering  slowly.  Fawcett  said  nothing  until  the 
thirty  days  had  expired.  He  went  out  every  day  at  the 
usual  hour  and  returned  at  night  so  that  nothing  in  his 


j04  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

conduct  aroused  the  least  suspicion.  He  intended  to 
make  one  blow,  when  the  time  came. 

On  an  afternoon  when,  for  want  of  something  better 
to  occupy  his  time,  he  was  strolling  in  the  Park,  he 
came  across  Mrs.  Stuart,  walking,  like  himself,  alone. 
He  would  have  avoided  addressing  her  had  she  not 
stopped  abruptly  in  his  path,  so  that  he  could  not  help 
acknowledging  her  presence  without  a  kind  of  dis- 
courtesy that  he  did  not  like  to  use. 

"  I  have  been  wanting  a  few  words  with  you,  Mr. 
Fawcett,"  murmured  Mrs.  Stuart,  "  and  I  shall  hardly 
find  a  more  auspicious  time  than  the  present.  I  know 
you  hate  me,  and  I  will  not  deny  that  you  have  some 
cause,  but  there  are  things  which,  if  you  will  let  me  ex- 
plain them,  may  mitigate  your  anger.  There  is  no  one 
here  who  knows  us,  and  I  will  delay  you  but  a  few 
minutes." 

She  was  looking  at  him  wistfully,  for  there  was  the 
darkest  cloud  on  his  face  she  had  ever  seen  there,  a 
cloud  that  seemed  absolutely  impenetrable. 

"There  is  nothing  that  you  can  say,"  he  replied, 
"  which  will  be  of  the  least  value  to  either  of  us.  If  it 
is  in  defence  of  yourself  it  is  unnecessary,  as  you  are 
not  in  any  way  responsible  to  me.  If  it  relates  to  my 
own  family  it  is  equally  useless.  My  life  is  broken  be- 
yond repair.  I  have  sold  out  my  interest  in  my  busi- 
ness and  shall  soon  leave  this  part  of  the  world." 

Mrs.  Stuart  started  at  his  last  words. 

"With  Mabel?"  she  asked,  earnestly. 

A  shiver  passed  over  him. 

"  Is  it  likely  ? "  he  demanded,  with  a  shade  of  haughti 
ness. 

-:  And  why  not  ? "  cried  Mattie,  her  voice  in  a  tremble. 
'No  matter  what  you  have  thought,  I  swear  to  you 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  305 

that  she  has  been  an  honest  wife — that  never  has  she 
been  or  dreamed  of  being  untrue  !  " 

He  controlled  himself  with  an  effort,  and  asked  if 
she  thought  he  had  any  doubt  of  that. 

"  I  am  glad  if  you  have  none,"  she  replied.  "  But  in 
that  case  how  can  you  speak  of  going  away  and  not 
taking  Mabel  with  you  ? " 

He  drew  a  long  breath  and  shut  his  lips  together  for 
a  moment  sharply. 

"  Do  you  not  realize,"  he  said,  "  that  there  are  things 
a  wife  may  do  that  are  no  less  terrible  in  the  sight  of  a 
husband  than  actual  infidelity  ? " 

"  What  things  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Stuart,  dropping  her 
eyes  before  the  blackness  of  the  gaze  he  bent  upon  her. 

"  For  instance,  associating  intimately  with  women  of 
loose  morals,"  he  answered,  bitterly. 

She  shrank,  as  if  the  blow  had  been  a  physical  one. 

"  You  mean  me  ?  "  she  said,  interrogatively. 

"  Yes,  I  mean  you." 

She  cleared  her  throat  of  something  that  impeded 
her  attempts  to  answer. 

"  Then,"  she  said,  huskily,  "  I  swear  to  you  that  she 
never  knew,  never  even  suspected  my  guilt." 

"  In  that  case  she  is  too  simple  to  be  a  safe  wife  for 
any  man,"  he  answered,  tartly.  "  If  she  could  see  you, 
day  after  day,  so  intimate  with  such  a  man  as  Frank 
Selden " 

Mrs.  Stuart  raised  both  her  hands  pleadingly,  while 
hot  tears  rushed  to  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Fawcett,  remember  !     He  is — dead!" 

"  That  does  not  relieve  him  of  criticism,"  he  replied, 

roughly.     "But,   let  me  say  again,  Mrs.  Stuart,  this 

conversation  can  have  no  good  end.     As  I  said  in  the 

first  place,  you  are  not  responsible  to  me  for  your  ac- 

to 


306  YOUNG  FA  WCETT'S  MABEL. 

tions,  so  far  as  they  concern  your  individual  conduct 
You  have  made  it  impossible  that  I  should  again  evef 
be  a  husband  to  Mabel  Fawcett,  and  I  am  only  await- 
ing the  passage  of  a  few  more  days  to  tell  her  so. 
When  I  am  out  of  the  way  it  is  probable  she  will  send 
for  you,  so  that  your  old  friendship  is  likely  to  be  re- 
newed. I  must  now  bid  you  good-afternoon.** 

He  had  turned,  and  was  about  to  walk  away,  when 
Mattie  spoke  again. 

"  I  shall  never  lead  her  into  such  dangers  as  might 
come  from  companionship  with  me,"  she  said,  chok- 
ingly. "  She  has  been  kind  enough  to  give  me  money 
and  I  can  get  along  now  ;  but  I  will  not  let  her  injure 
herself  farther,  much  as  I  would  like  her  society." 

Fawcett  had  not  turned  his  face  toward  her.  He 
listened  with  no  sign  of  relenting,  and  when  she  finished 
he  said 

"Good-bye,  Mrs.  Stuart." 

She  would  have  liked  to  say  much  more  to  him,  but 
she  saw  that  he  was  adamant.  The  death  of  Mr. 
Selden  had  given  her  a  shock  from  which  she  had  neve* 
recovered,  and  she  was  in  no  condition  for  a  contra 
rersy  with  one  so  set  as  he  appeared  to  be. 

At  the  end  of  the  month  Fawcett  came  into  his  house 
one  morning  only  an  hour  after  he  left  it,  to  the  great 
astonishment  of  his  wife,  who  had  never  known  a  similar 
instance  since  they  had  lived  in  New  York. 

"  Is  anything  the  matter,  Allan  ? "  she  asked,  anx- 
iously, coming  toward  him  with  the  timid  air  she 
always  wore  in  his  presence  of  late. 

He  took  a  chair  and  braced  himself  up  for  his  un- 
pleasant task. 

"Yes,"  he  said  slowly.  "Something  is  th«  matter. 
Very  many  things  are  the  matter." 


YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL.  307 

Mrs.  Pawcett  savr  that  it  was  no  ordinary  affair  that 
was  on  his  mind.  She  sat  down  opposite  to  him  and 
Waited  for  him  to  continue,  with  a  feeling  of  deep  ap- 
prehension. 

"  Is  it  about — your  business — at  the  office  ? "  she 
asked,  as  he  did  not  speak. 

"  No.  I  have  no  business  at  the  office.  I  sold  out 
a  month  ago. " 

*  Ah  I  H  She  heaved  a  sigh.  "  Things  had  gone 
wrong  there  again  ?  " 

He  took  out  a  penknife  and  began  to  cut  his  finger- 
nails, which  did  not  need  that  attention  in  the  least ;  a 
fact  she  was  quick  to  observe. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  said,  "things  have  gone  re- 
markably well  there  for  some  time  back.  In  fact,  when 
things  went  the  worst  elsewhere  they  improved  at  the 
office.  I  have  thirty  thousand  dollars  in  the  bank  and 
I  owe  no  man  a  cent." 

It  was  something  about  herself,  then.  She  had  feared 
at  the  first  that  this  was  it,  but  she  hoped  otherwise. 
What  new  fault  had  she  committed,  she  wondered. 
She  puzzled  her  tired  brain  over  this  conundrum,  but 
could  find  no  solution  to  it.  It  was  a  long  time  since 
she  had  been  beyond  her  doorstep,  and  she  had  had 
literally  no  visitors  but  Dr.  Legate  and  her  nurse. 

"  The  fact  is,  Mabel,"  said  Fawcett,  forcing  out  the 
words  with  difficulty,  "  I  am  going  away." 

"  Going  away  1    Where  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  away,"  he  repeated.  "  Too  many 
things  have  made  New  York  unpleasant  to  me." 

She  waited  a  few  seconds  for  him  to  explain. 

**  Where  are  we  going  ?  "  she  asked  finally. 

He  twisted  a  number  of  times  the  only  ring  that  he 


308  YOUNG  FAWCETT'S  MABEL. 

"  It  is  only  /  who  am  going,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"  And — shall  you — stay  long  ?  " 

He  raised  his  eyes  to  hers,  and  she  understood  everyi 
thing  before  he  spoke. 

"  As  long  as  I  live." 

For  a  moment  the  shock  was  substantially  the  same 
to  her  as  if  he  had  suddenly  died  in  that  chair  in  which 
he  was  sitting.  She  had  had  no  preparation  for  this. 
She  had  known  that  he  was  likely  at  any  time  to  find 
fault  with  her,  to  complain  of  things  she  had  done,  to 
warn  her  against  their  repetition.  But  that  he  intended 
to  sever  their  marital  bonds — fully  and  immediately — 
for  that  she  had  not  the  least  premonition.  She  could 
not  utter  a  word,  so  great  was  her  surprise,  so  intense 
her  pain.  After  waiting  a  moment  he  proceeded  to 
explain. 

"  I  want  to  say  just  as  little  as  I  can  and  have  no 
misunderstanding.  That  matter  of  Frank  Selden  and 
Mattie  Stuart  settled  everything  for  me.  They  were 
living  in  open  adultery.  You  were  their  almost  con- 
stant companion,  visiting  them  at  their  residence, 
accompanying  them  on  their  walks,  to  places  of  public 
resort.  Mrs.  Stuart  swears  you  did  not  know  what  was 
going  on,  and  I  do  not  dispute  her.  The  disgrace  was, 
however,  just  as  great  to  my  name.  Had  you  been 
possessed  of  as  much  sense  as  you  ought  to  have  you 
would  have  known  by  instinct.  Had  you  confided  in 
your  husband  instead  of  concealing  all  your  acts  from 
him,  he  would  have  been  able  to  tell  you  that  you  were 
in  dangerous  society.  You  chose  your  own  path.  If 
you  ever  have  a  regret  for  our  separation,  it  is  them 
you  may  blame. 

"  So  long  as  I  had  your  child  to  think  of,  I  was 
obliged  to  forgive  and  try  to  forget  many  things.  H« 


YOUNG  FAWCETrS  MABEL.  309 

«— Is — not — here.  So  long  as  there  was  another  life 
that  seemed  about  to  owe  its  existence  to  us  I  held  my 
peace  as  well  as  I  could.  Now  nothing  stands  in  my 
way.  There  is  no  reason  why  you  and  I  cannot  sepa- 
rate, cannot  give  up  a  married  existence  that  has  had 
more  than  its  share  of  unhappiness  for  both.  You 
have  a  much  larger  fortune  than  I.  There  is  no  prob- 
ability that  you  will  ever  be  in  want.  If  you  ever  are, 
I  will  share  all  I  have  with  you  freely.  As  to  a  divorce 
—a  legal  affair — I  leave  that  to  your  pleasure.  I  shall 
never  wish  to  marry  again.  Should  you  ever  have  such 
a  desire,  I  will  not  oppose  you.  There  is  only  one 
thing  more  that  I  wish  to  say,  and  that  is,  I  accuse  you 
of  nothing  worse  than  blind  folly ;  I  do  not  think  you 
have  been  guilty  of  personal  faults.  We  are  thoroughly 
incompatible,  that  is  all" 

There  was  a  quality  in  this  little  woman  difficult 
to  comprehend,  a  quality  that  made  strength  out  of  her 
very  weakness,  in  such  an  emergency  as  this.  She 
had  recently  risen  from  a  sick  bed.  At  her  best  she 
was  no  match  for  a  strong  man  like  him.  The  few 
things  she  had  to  say,  however,  came  straight  from  her 
lips,  without  a  tremor  or  sign  of  cowardice. 

"I  have  listened  to  you,  Allan,"  she  answered, 
"without  interruption,  and  if  you  will  do  as  much,  I 
will  be  very  brief.  I  never  knew,  never  conceived  that 
anything  was  wrong  between  Frank  and  Mattie,  until 
she  wrote  me  In  response  to  the  donation  I  sent  her, 
Confessing  all  and  begging  my  pardon.  I  was  inex- 
pressibly shocked,  for  nothing  but  her  own  admission 
would  have  made  me  believe  so  frightful  a  thing  of 
a  woman  who  seemed  so  pure  and  innocent.  You 
Chink  it  strange,  but  reflect  a  little.  There  was  no  way 
that  I  should  know.  I  have  not  had  your  experience. 


3io  YOUNG  FA  WCRTT*S  MABEL. 

/never  went  to  a  house  of  ill-repute,  never  drank  to 

intoxication  in  company  with  a  courtesan,  as  you  have 
done.  If  I  misjudged  my  two  cousins,  my  ignorance 
of  such  matters  is  my  sufficient  excuse." 

Fawcett  winced  severely  under  the  thrust,  but  he  let 
her  go  on  without  reply. 

"  You  speak  of  our  children.  Do  you  think  they 
were  dearer  to  you  than  to  the  mother  who  carried 
them  next  her  heart  for  long  months,  bore  them  in 
anguish  such  as  no  man  ever  endures,  and  nursed 
them  at  her  breast?  I  have  not  your  facility  of 
expression,  Allan,  but  the  loss — not  only  of  Cecil,  but 
of  that  little  girl  on  whose  face  you  did  not  even  deign 
to  look — has  made  me  suffer  intensely.  The  trouble  is 
that  you  have  never  really  loved  me;  you  have  looked 
on  me  as  something  to  preserve  for  the  sake  of  your 
offspring,  something  to  be  treated  with  special  con- 
sideration as  long  as  their  lives  were  dependent  on 
mine,  and  to  be  thrust  aside  when  that  necessity  no 
longer  exists.  Now,  Allan,  before  you  say  good-bye,  I 
want  to  own  to  you  that  I  have  not  done  everything 
as  I  should,  nor  as  I  would  if  I  had  them  to  do  over 
again.  I  have  learned  from  dear  experience.  But 
I  cannot  help  adding  that  you  have  not  been  perfect, 
either.  You  married  a  child,  and  it  was  your  duty 
to  guard  her  closer  than  you  did.  You  could  have 
passed  a  little  more  of  your  time  with  her,  you  might 
occasionally  have  taken  her  to  walk,  or  a  place  of 
amusement,  instead  of  leaving  her  to  find  other  people 
more  willing.  Had  you  done  your  whole  duty,  I  might 
have  been  a  little  nearer  to  performing  mine." 

The  husband  waited  a  moment,  but  she  seemed  to 
have  finished. 

"The  things  I  wish  to  take  are  packed  in  my  trunks 


YOUNG  FA  WCMTTS  MAM  ML.  ^« 

and  bags,"  he  said,  quietly.  '  I  will  bring  an  express 
man  for  them.  I  wish  you  well,  MabeL" 

"  Thank  you,"  she  answered,  calmly. 

"Good-bye." 

«  Good-bye." 

An  hour  later  Fawcett  returned  with  an  expressman 
for  the  baggage.  Before  the  man  came  upstairs,  Allan 
went  in  search  of  his  wife  to  give  her  the  key  of 
the  flat,  as  an  indication  of  his  final  departure.  He 
found  her  in  a  dead  faint  on  her  own  bed,  with  two 
photographs  clasped  tightly  in  her  hands. 

His  first  thought  was  to  call  the  servant,  but  on  con- 
sideration he  decided  that  this  would  have  a  heartless 
look,  and  he  applied  himself  to  restoring  animation 
in  the  still  form.  Within  a  few  minutes  Mabel  was 
breathing  more  naturally,  but  she  was  not  yet  in 
a  condition  to  recognize  him.  He  did  not  want  to 
go  till  he  had  completed  his  task. 

Suddenly  he  noticed  whose  pictures  his  wife  had 
clasped  to  her  breast  when  she  "lost  consciousness. 
They  were  those  of  Cecil  and  himself.  Both  were  wet 
with  tears. 

A  dizziness  came  over  the  husband. 

"  I  had  best  go  now,  before  she  fully  awakes,"  ht 
thought. 

Then  he  looked  at  Mrs.  Fawcett  again.  In  her  pallor 
she  appeared  five  years  younger.  It  was  the  face  of 
his  child-wife  that  stared  at  him.  It  was  the  face  he 
had  joyed  to  find  on  his  pillow  in  the  days  of  their 
honeymoon !  How  the  memories  thronged  upon 
him ! 

The  eyes  of  the  wife  opened  slowly  and  drank  in  the 
sight  before  them.  The  arms  opened  to  their  fullest 
extent  and  closed  around  his  neck.  What  had  hap 


jl t  YOUNC  FA  WCE  T7  'S  MABEL, 

pened  to  the  years  ?  Surely  he  was  again  in  the  bridal 
chamber  of  the  Narragansett  House  at  Providence  ! 

There  was  a  mighty  struggle  in  his  mind,  and  the 
woman  conquered. 

"Mabel,"  he  whispered,  "can  you  ever  love  me 
again?" 

And  she  murmured — 

"  When  did  I  cease  ?  " 

He  took  up  one  of  the  photographs  that  lay  by  her 
fide. 

"  You  had  Cecil's  picture  here,"  he  said,  tenderly. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered, "  and  yours." 

The  expressman  was  surprised  when  he  received 
word,  some  minutes  later,  that  there  was  no  baggage  to 
remove,  after  all. 

"You  are  not  going  to-day?"  he  said,  interrog* 
atively. 

"  No, "  responded  Fawcett,  dreamily,  "  not  to-day.* 


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